Child of Arda
by DJ Sparkles
Summary: With the Fellowship in peril, Arda sends aid in the form of an odd visitor to Rivendell. Will she be enough to turn the tide, should the Fellowship fail? ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! Rated T. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life would be a lot poorer. Never change, any of you. **

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

**Chapter One**

Amareth McClellan checked her kit carefully. The patrol she was assigned to that afternoon would need her undivided attention; this was dangerous territory and she wanted a full kit in case they were ambushed.

She was mostly ornamentation on these patrols any more; these men where highly trained and very, very adept at keeping a low profile. They had to be. This was a highly contested area, not secured, and the insurgents were known to hit the patrols whenever they could. But the fact remained, they didn't go out without a medic, and she was the best there was. Most of the casualties she tended at least made it to the aid stations.

The patrol units had a pool of medics to choose from; Amareth hadn't had much downtime in two weeks. She was a bit on the fatigued side, but she wouldn't turn work down when the Marines asked for her. They deserved the best she could give them and would never receive less.

"Hey, Doc, saddle up!" a voice called from nearby and she scurried out the door, everything in place and ready. Hopefully she'd have no need for it.

* * *

Three hours later, she was listening to the shrill whine of the bullets whizzing over her head and the thump of heavy rounds landing nearby as she held the sergeant's leg together with sheer will. She heard the panicked voice calling for air support, heard the sounds of the other men trying to return fire, the screams of the wounded, and then she was too busy to hear anything.

She got the wound wrapped and pressure-bandaged and made her way among them, wriggling across the hard-packed dirt, packing wounds and sewing what she could, patching them up enough to hold them together back to the aid stations. Then everything slowed down to a crawl as the planes streaked overhead, laying down suppressing fire and allowed them to grab the wounded and run.

She was right with them until she heard another voice screaming nearby. She dropped aside, ignoring the cries from her erstwhile unit to leave the enemy for his own to contend with. She couldn't do that. She had a duty to heal where there was hurt; it was such a fundamental part of her that she couldn't ignore it even if she wanted to.

She knelt beside the wounded man and gave him a quick once-over, her hands immediately going for the necessary items in her kit. A screeching roar nearby warned her and she threw herself flat over her patient to protect him from the fallout from the resulting damage.

Earth showered over them both, and then there was silence. The jets had retreated into the distance, and her unit wasn't in sight. They had taken cover; prudent, necessary, and it made her skin crawl. The silence was deafening, and not a little disquieting. She knew the Marines wouldn't desert her; it wasn't their way. No one got left behind, ever. But the utter stillness of the scene was disturbing.

She rose; the man hade stopped breathing while she covered him and a quick check gave her the explanation; the wounds he had received had allowed him to bleed out before she could stop them all. She raised her head again and looked around, hoping the fighting had broken; but surely if it had, the Marines would have come out for her?

Nothing moved, nothing made a sound. She fought the urge to simply stand up and take a better look; she didn't want her head shot off. But after several minutes, she at least expected the Marines would have secured the area. She stood up and grabbed her pack, hoisting it to her shoulder and setting off down the road. Where were they?

No answer to her muted calls. Not a sound was audible in the vicinity, nor was there anything moving within sight. She felt her skin crawling again and fought the sensation, knowing that if she yielded to it, she would panic. It was almost claustrophobic, which was a laugh since she was in the middle of the desert with open space around her for miles.

She shrugged mentally and began to slog for home. If the Marines met her on the way, great. If they didn't, she was going to have them for lunch when she found them. No big deal.

A shout made her spin and dive for the dirt. Apparently the enemy wasn't as far gone as she'd hoped; another bullet whizzed past her ear and she crawled toward the nearest shelter. It was only a dusty outcropping of rock, but it would have to do. Silently she offered thanks for the thing; it never hurt to thank Mother Earth for what you used. Then the bullets began flying in earnest again and she dropped behind the rock, forgetting most everything but the urge to survive.

A spattering of Arabic reached her ears and she drew farther down next to her rock, wishing those bloody Marines would show their asses again and get her out of this. Then she brightened slightly when she heard returning fire. She stuck her head up just enough to just enough to have another look around. Yup, there they were, her boys, no, men, and they were coming to get her out of this. She could almost taste her freedom and fought the urge to stand up and scream her defiance at the enemy.

Instead, she began wiggling through the dust and sand toward her Marines, keeping herself as low to the ground as she could, trying to be one with the earth and not managing too well. She was well aware that if the enemy sighted her again, she was dead; but she was banking on the Marines holding their attention long enough for her to rejoin them and head for home.

She might as well have been wishing on starlight. She had made it almost all the way to them, her Marines, her boys, before the enemy sighted her again, but it didn't matter. As one of the men scooped her up to run, the first hit made itself felt in the calf of her right leg and she stumbled. She was quickly moved into a fireman's carry and they were running for home, but it wasn't enough of a start.

She saw the enemy soldier aim again, saw him putting the pull on the trigger that would end her life, even saw the flash as the bullet left the muzzle of the gun. But the pain when it hit was like nothing she had ever experienced. She gave a long, lingering wail of anguish, and then there was darkness.

* * *

The rider dismounted quickly when he saw the limp figure in the grass and moved closer. The creature seemed to be a human woman, but the garments she wore were completely unfamiliar to him. Then he saw the blood and forgot everything else.

A quick check revealed two very confusing wounds. The first, in her leg, would have slowed her down but wasn't in itself life threatening. But the one in her back, that was in need of immediate attention or she would soon be dead. Time enough later to find out what caused them. Right now, he needed to stop the bleeding and begin the healing process.

He called forth his healing magic and poured it toward her, only to draw back in confusion when he touched something he quite unexpected. There was something around this woman, something he could not immediately recognize, and it troubled him. Something he had touched before… but it still eluded him and he pushed it firmly to the back of his mind as he summoned his healing spells once more.

He had no doubt that others would arrive soon to help him. His horse would have returned to the stables quickly and when it was found riderless there would be a search mounted. Until then, he would try to keep this woman alive with all the power he held if necessary.

He felt the magic of his valley rallying to help him, to protect him and the woman while he worked. And yet… there was a subtle difference this time, as though the focus had shifted slightly more into her defense than his. Something was definitely not right here; those magics had worked through life-ages of the world; he had placed them here himself with an eye to protect his people, those under his protection, both human and Elf.

That had not happened in millennia. Not since… cautiously he regarded the woman once more. Was it possible? Was she an Earth Child? They had not been seen since the First Age! Yet the conclusion seemed clear. All the evidence pointed in that direction. The turning of his protective magic to focus on her, the thin gossamer shield of energy now surrounding her, they all pointed to one thing. This was one of the children of the very earth, one of the elemental spirits of the world. That she appeared human was puzzling to him; most appeared in their native forms. Yet she was drawing strength from the very earth she lay upon, he could see it. Her wounds were visibly healing, albeit much more slowly than he would have liked.

None of his musing was helping her. He again focused on the task at hand and assisted her as he could. He knew now that he could not move her from this place; to move her would be to break the fragile thread she had woven from the earth and perhaps reopen her wounds. No, he would have to remain with her here.

The sound of hoof beats reached his sensitive hearing and he took in a deep breath. Aid had arrived quite quickly. He gave a silent thanks to the efficiency of his staff. No doubt Erestor had roused the entire valley when his horse had returned unattended. He rose to meet the rider.

Glorfindel allowed his mount to prance into the glade and gave an arch glance to his lord. "If you had intended on leaving your horse and walking through the valley, Lord Elrond, I wish you had informed your seneschal," he remarked dryly. "Erestor was quite unnerved when Elanor returned alone."

"It was unexpected," Elrond returned in kind. He knew Glorfindel was not taking him to task; he also knew that Erestor would upon his return to the Last Homely House. "I will be remaining here for some time. You may tell Erestor to send provisions and my healing herbs. This woman is in need of aid and I dare not move her from here."

Glorfindel raised a golden brow, but said nothing for a long moment. "Another Edain for you to mother, Elrond? Do you never tire of them?" Though his voice was laced with good humor, there was some dismay as well. Elrond had sent the last one only this morning, the Dunadan he called Aragorn, on an impossible quest. Impossible, yet necessary, Glorfindel reminded himself, and it wasn't as if Elrond had wanted to. He had nurtured Aragorn, hidden him from the evil that had sought his death since his birth, in preparation for this moment, and he knew that Elrond loved the Man as his own son. He knew Elrond was still nursing the heartache of knowing he had likely sent him to his death.

Elrond merely met the Balrog Slayer's gaze evenly. "She is not what she seems, mellon nin," he said softly. "She is an elemental, a child of the earth."

Glorfindel stifled a gasp. Surely not! The elementals were ancient, more so even than the Elves. None had been seen in millennia; they had nearly fallen into the realm of legend and myth. Only the Elves truly remembered them now, and those memories were growing dim, despite the Elven tendency to near-perfect recall. And the earth spirits were the most rare of all. "I will return with your requirements, then, and remain with you until she is able to travel. You cannot remain out here unguarded, despite being in the valley. There are shadows walking the world now that would make easy work of your protections, my lord."

"Not so easy as you believe, but the company would be welcome. I doubt she is able to speak for several days yet. She was at death's door when I came upon her. That much damage takes time to heal, regardless of how it is done."


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life would be a lot poorer. Never change, any of you. **

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

**Chapter Two**

Amareth came slowly back to consciousness and opened her eyes, staring at the trees in disorientation. Where was she? This most certainly wasn't the desert. Had she died, was this the afterlife? Had she somehow joined the spirits of her mother's people, despite her ignorance of their culture? It didn't seem anything like the Heaven her father had constantly told her about.

Things slowly began to register in her mind. First, it was cooler than she had thought, but not uncomfortably so. Next, that she was covered with some form of blanket, and that she was totally naked underneath it. A blush suffused her cheeks and she sat up, careful to keep the blanket in place, and cast a glance around her to identify whoever it was that had taken her clothes.

Two men were nearby, engaged in low conversation. They turned at the sound of her discreet cough and the dark-haired one rose to come to her.

She watched him carefully. What had he done to her while she was out? Healed her up, it seemed, though she worried what else might have happened.

"It is good to see you awake," he said clearly, though his accent fell strangely on her ears. "How do you feel?"

"Confused," she answered honestly. She seemed to understand that these two meant her no harm, though she didn't know why she knew it. Gut instinct had protected her before, though, so she went with the feeling. "This isn't the desert. How did I get here? And where are my clothes?"

"I found you here, badly injured," he explained quietly as he knelt beside her. "You are from the desert?" Elrond considered quickly. She had the look of some of the southern people, her skin the color of honey, her hair the darkest pure black; but she spoke curiously, slurring her words together until they were almost unrecognizable. He had never heard such speech.

"No, but that's where I was when I was shot." Amareth was having a hard time focusing her mind. His words were slow and strangely accented as well, but she understood them. "How did I get here?"

"I do not know." Elrond put a hand out to her. "May I check your wounds?" he asked softly. She had been shot? How had she managed to remove the arrow from the wound on her back? He would have thought it unreachable.

"Shot. You know. With a gun." She subsided and allowed him to run gentle hands across her back. It was a light touch, yet something stirred restlessly just under the surface. It was like nothing she had ever felt and she forced herself not to cringe away; there was nothing sensual about it, but there was still a tingle where his fingers traced, almost like a sort of mild electrical jolt.

"It is healing well. You should be ready to travel, my lady. I will take you to my home and we will talk more." Elrond rose and Glorfindel brought a saddle pack to them. "You will find clothing inside; wear what you wish." Then he and Glorfindel moved a polite distance away and pointedly turned their backs in her direction.

Amareth scowled before rummaging through the bag. Gowns, gowns… no pants. Damn. Oh well, she'd have to make the best of it. She slipped one of the gowns over her head and adjusted it a bit. She hated dresses. "All right, I'm decent," she said softly. Then something else hit her.

Both men had pointed ears.

How was that possible? Just where in the Mother's name was she? Pointed ears were for fairy tales and science fiction. Elves didn't exist, neither did Vulcans. Had she somehow survived the ambush and instead gone looney? Did she even now exist in a padded cell, or worse, on a hospital gurney with IV sedation? Had she lost her mind?

Elrond sensed her disquiet. "You are not mad," he said softly. "Ease your mind. We will care for you, give you shelter, and help you along your way, no matter what path you wish to take. If you wish to remain, you may do so."

She nodded silently and took a deep breath…

…and it was as though the forest came alive for her. She felt the life in the trees, in the grass under her feet, in the air around her. The sensation was overwhelming. And yet, she felt strength and balance returning to her, and the unease began to leave her. A feeling of contentment settled around her and she felt at peace for the first time in her waking memory.

A sense of power rose within her, filling her entire being with that same peace and making her body thrum like a live wire. Then it subsided quickly, leaving her feeling whole and full of life. And somehow she knew that she could call upon that power when she wished. The thought frightened her. First it was Elves… now this. What had happened to her, what had she become?

Firmly she took hold of her wayward musings. First things first. Once one eliminated the impossible, whatever was left, however improbable, must be the truth. It was impossible that she had died; she was still drawing breath, her heart was beating, she could feel the whisper of air against her face and the texture of the grass under her feet. So, she was alive. What next?

Somehow she had been called to this place, or sent, or something. She needed to find out where she was, and why she was here. She should, by all she knew about gunshot wounds and medicine, have been dead mere minutes after the shot had hit. She knew it had been a solid, serious hit. The pain had been excruciating and she couldn't breathe within seconds. So, if she had lived, something or someone had intervened and brought her here.

She came back from her wayward thoughts with a start when the "Elf" lightly touched her arm. It was a simple brush of his fingers, no more, but it burned like flame against her skin before subsiding. She held his gaze for a long moment, uncertainty again rearing its ugly head and forcing her off balance.

He nodded slowly, as though in response to something she had said, though her lips had not moved. "You feel the life of the world," he said softly, his dark eyes never leaving hers. "I understand it can become quite… powerful."

She nodded again. "I don't know who you are, where I am, why I'm here, or even why I'm still alive," she began. Her frustration had reached the breaking point and she wanted some answers. "Start talking, or I'm going to stop playing nice."

Elrond raised a delicate brow in her direction, but he supposed she was rather disoriented. "Forgive me, my lady," he answered with dignity. "I am Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, and my companion is Glorfindel. I found you here some days ago, wounded nearly unto death, and have since remained to help you heal. As for how you arrived in this place, I, too, would like an answer to the riddle. Rivendell is protected by powerful magic; magic you should not have been able to penetrate without assistance from one of my people." He regarded her steadily. "Do not think I consider you an enemy. But there are questions here that must be answered before we might truly help you on your path." He turned to Glorfindel as the other led the horses forward. "Can you ride? I must return."

Amareth raised her eyes to the horses, apprehension trilling down her spine. She had almost no experience with animals, and certainly nothing larger than a dog. "I've never ridden," she said softly. Her fear was threatening to get the better of her and she squashed it ruthlessly. She reached into herself, into that core of power she had only just discovered, and drew slightly on it to steady herself.

"Then we will go slowly, lady." Glorfindel extended his hand to her. "Come, you may ride with me. Carnil will allow no harm to come to you." Nor would he allow harm to come to his lord. They knew nothing about this woman, be she elemental or not. No, he had not been reborn to this existence to take reckless chances with Lord Elrond's life. Until they had answers to the questions she presented, he would watch her closely.


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life would be a lot poorer. Never change, any of you. **

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

**Chapter Three**

The ride itself proved most enlightening for Amareth, though it also seemed that as each question was answered, another three rose to take its place. She was acutely aware of Glorfindel's arms around her, steadying her, and wished she wasn't. The energy she could feel in him disturbed her in some really unfamiliar ways. Not unpleasant, exactly, but definitely unnerving.

The three of them had chatted quite amiably during the ride. It seemed Elrond was a powerful Elf Lord, very studious and had a reputation as a world class healer. Once she heard that, it was easy to talk to him; she had so many questions about where she was and how things were different here, there weren't going to be enough hours in the day for her to ask them all. But through everything, he maintained a distance, an aloofness she didn't understand. He wasn't unkind to her, but he seemed rather cool for someone who had spent as much time in her company as he apparently had.

Glorfindel, on the other hand, was quite willing to discourse on whatever she asked about that wasn't related to healing. He was most interested in what she had to say about the ambush, and she filed that away for future reference. He seemed to be the soldier of the two, though she had no doubts that Elrond could hold his own in a fight. She turned her attention back to Glorfindel quickly as he asked another question.

"A gun?" she asked incredulously. "A gun is a weapon. It shoots bullets. Hard projectiles made of metal." A thought occurred to her and she winced. "I don't suppose you have anything like that, do you?"

"No, nothing. Have you no bows, no spears? No swords?" The disbelief in his voice was palpable and Amareth gritted her teeth against a sharp retort. "These guns must be quite deadly over distance." The distaste in his voice was thick. "There is no honor in murder. These guns, they might be more efficient ways to kill, but there is no skill, no honor in killing someone who cannot even see your face."

Amareth heard the censure in his tone and forced herself not to rise to the bait. "Is it murder to defend your home, your people, from those who would take them from you?" she asked caustically. "Sometimes it is necessary to find more efficient ways to kill, if only to preserve the freedoms of others." She felt him stiffen against her back and knew he didn't agree. "If men came here, with the intent of taking what you have, of killing your families while they slept, of forcing you to live by their traditions and laws, wouldn't you want to drive them away by any means necessary? Wouldn't you use any method available to destroy them before they could destroy you?"

Glorfindel didn't reply right away and she was afraid she had pushed him too far. Then he relaxed again and she released the breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. "It is as you say," he replied softly. "Honor and valor are our ways; but survival sometimes outweighs those traits." He sounded sad and she felt a frisson of energy play across her skin. Then he brightened as he pointed ahead of them slightly, to where Elrond had urged his mount across a narrow stone bridge. "The bridge over the Bruinen," he remarked. "We are nearly home."

Amareth stiffened and tried to calm herself. It seemed awfully unstable, and the water rushing underneath seemed very loud and very strong. She twined her hands into Carnil's mane to get a better grip, as if she could hold herself aboard if the bridge collapsed. Glorfindel laughed softly and tightened his grip about her waist and whispered reassuringly, words she didn't understand, soft Elvish phrases that nonetheless seemed to lessen her anxiety a bit.

A glance over the side of the bridge steadied her a bit more and she closed her eyes, following some inner voice that whispered to her. The energy current she had so recently found stirred again and she touched it lightly, willing it to quiet, to subside slightly, and then she opened her eyes.

The river had settled into a less rapid pace and looked far less fearsome to her eyes, which widened in surprise. The water itself seemed to shimmer, to have an extra sheen that was somehow more than just the light reflected from the surface. The bridge, as well, glowed with an inner light and she gasped in consternation. "What… what's happened to me, what is this?" she whispered, almost panicked.

"Have you no magic in your world?" Glorfindel asked softly as he drew up next to Elrond. He dismounted first, and lifted her down easily to set her on her feet. Elrond gestured her forward and she went to stand beside him, a bit unnerved by the number of people who had gathered to welcome their lord home.

She did her best to smile and look gracious as she was introduced to the seneschal, Erestor, but she knew it was an act. She had to be pretty grubby and she had no idea how she was supposed to behave; she felt like the country mouse come to the big city. Still, she managed a creditable curtsey for him.

"Erestor will see you housed properly within Imladris," Elrond was saying quietly and she nodded. "You are free to roam, to explore; we have no secrets here. We will begin on the morrow to find why you have been brought to us at this time." He nodded politely and stepped away, and she turned once more to Erestor.

Erestor took her to a large room, furnished most invitingly. But it was the bath that drew her delighted attention. She listened carefully while Erestor explained she would have a maidservant to help her, and that she was free to roam about as Lord Elrond had said, but her mouth was almost watering at the thought of the bath. She knew she was as clean as sponging could make her; and she was used to being dirty; after all, she was a Marine. Dirt came with the territory. But to be totally clean… the thought was exhilarating.

She dragged her attention back to Erestor reluctantly. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear that last part."

He smiled slightly at her. "You may do as you wish; you are an honored guest. There is always food and drink available in the Hall, and there will be stories in the Hall of Fire in the evening, if you wish to join us. I will leave you now to freshen up." He hadn't missed the wistful way she had eyed the bath.

"Thank you." She barely waited until he was gone before lunging at the tub. A moment's careful study showed her how to work the unfamiliar taps and she filled it quickly, shrugged off the gown and sank gratefully into the steaming water. Oh, it was heaven! She felt her weary body begin to relax and began to doze lightly.

"I do not know what to make of her," Elrond was saying to Glorfindel as Erestor slipped into his study. "Certainly she is a most unexpected complication. But I feel no sense of evil from her, no threat. I do not believe her to be an enemy."

"It is unsettling that you had no foresight of her arrival," Glorfindel answered smoothly. "Yet, I perceive no threat from her, either. She could be a great asset, should we need to defend ourselves here. The power she wields, Valar, she calmed the Bruinen with but a thought! All the more frightening by the fact that she did not realize the deed until it was done." He glanced over to Erestor, wondering what the seneschal had discovered about the lady.

"I have set Tinueth as her maid," Erestor said quietly. "She is most suited to subtle observation. We will know soon enough if this woman means us harm. Yet I must agree, I do not think she does." A troubled frown crossed his face. "Though why she has come to us at this time is a matter for investigation."

"Indeed." Elrond was thoughtful. "The Quest must not fail. There have been other portents of late that evil is seeking the Ring, perhaps from within the Fellowship itself." The realization was bitter to him. He had not forgotten Boromir's obsession with the Ring; he was counting on Aragorn to keep the Gondorian under control. The notion that perhaps his foster son was unequal to the task was galling; but he had no foresight of the outcome of the Quest. Never before had his foresight failed him, and he was deeply concerned. "Whether we should trust her or not, I do not yet know. We will watch, and we will see. Glorfindel, your opinion of our wanderer?"

"I believe she is very powerful, and yet ignorant of that power. Her reaction when she calmed the Bruinen…" He shook his head. "She was near terrified by the idea that she had done it. I do not believe she knows what she is, or what she is capable of. She seems completely ignorant of magic, but she does have a warrior's mind. And she claims to have knowledge of healing as well." He gave careful thought to their conversation during the ride. "Intelligent, competent, capable of great courage; all these things I would say of her. And yet… there is something more. Something I cannot explain, a sense of…" He again shook his head. "I cannot put it into words, but I do not believe she means us harm. Time will tell."

"And that we have precious little of," Elrond replied firmly. "Erestor, bring anything Tithuen learns to me, no matter how trivial it seems. Glorfindel, I will leave it to you to discover the extent of her training as a warrior. I myself will be researching the elementals to see what we must be wary of."

Both Elves nodded and departed, leaving Elrond to puzzle over their unexpected guest. His memory of the Elementals was vague. He had been very young, a mere Elfling in the service of Gil-galad when he had first heard of them, and he had never seen one. They had been ancient even then, more myth than reality. He must consult his library and discover what he could of them.

**Dread Lady Freya: I hope you're not the only one reading this, but oh well, I'm glad you like it!**


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life would be a lot poorer. Never change, any of you. **

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

**Chapter Four**

Amareth finally decided she'd better get out of the tub before she turned into a complete prune and rose, looking about for a towel. But before she could take a step, a warm fluffy towel was wrapped around her and she started in surprise. "Forgive me, my lady," a soft voice murmured behind her. "I am Tithuen, your maid. I meant not to frighten you."

Amareth relaxed slightly, although she still wasn't too comfortable. "Nothing to forgive," she replied quickly. "I'm just not used to servants. I didn't have any, none of us did." She gave a thought to her friends, her fellow Marines, and gave a shudder at the image of their reaction to such cosseting. "We Marines are pretty self-sufficient."

Tithuen briskly toweled her dry anyway and tsked good-naturedly. "Then this will be a pleasant change for you," she remarked dryly as she settled a gown quickly over Amareth and did up the lacings. "Lord Erestor says that your things will be returned to you as soon as they are cleaned. Now, I am at your service, Lady Amareth. What would you wish to do first?"

"Um…" Amareth pondered the question for all of about two seconds. "Food, I think, then maybe… I'm not used to having much free time. What would you suggest?"

"Lord Elrond considers you an honored guest, so we will do as you wish," was the calm reply. "If I might suggest, a walk in the gardens would be restful. Perhaps it would ease your mind, as it does mine."

"That sounds good. But I think food is the first order of business." Amareth stifled a groan as her stomach rumbled noisily. "Did Lord Elrond tell you how long I was unconscious?" she asked idly as she followed the slender Elf along a passageway to the Hall. She hadn't missed the slight emphasis Tithuen had placed on the pronoun and would address him accordingly.

The smells of food reached her and she hurried her step a bit. A few moments later, she found herself seated at a table with Tithuen bringing her food; this wouldn't do at all. It would be far too easy for her to get used to the decadence having a personal servant seemed to promote. Unless… she gave a look around. Servants were caring for all of the occupants of the Hall. She didn't want to make a scene by refusing to do things their way, so she kept silent.

Part of her training had been to adapt to circumstances. She would adapt to this, she had to. Adaptation was crucial to survival, and she was a survivor. She would, however have to find a way to do her physical training. She wasn't about to let her condition deteriorate under any circumstances; and it always paid to be prepared for a fight. She wouldn't, couldn't let that slide.

A merry laugh on her left surprised her and she turned in time to see Glorfindel settle himself next to her. "Ah, it is good to see you about, Lady Amareth," he said genially. "I half feared you would keep to your rooms and deprive us of your beauty."

She blushed scarlet and he laughed again. "I see you are unused to flattery," he remarked as he accepted a goblet of wine from Tithuen. "Very well, I will restrain myself. Have you plans for the afternoon, or perhaps I could steal you away?"

"I only just got here," she found herself explaining with a laugh of her own. "Tithuen and I were going to walk in the gardens once I finished eating. Want to join us?"

Glorfindel gave another of those low chuckles. "Truthfully, I would enjoy that very much. I fear, however, my purpose was a bit more dutiful." He watched her carefully. "What I would like, if it pleases you, is to learn more of your world, of how your warriors fight. Will you indulge my curiosity?"

"If you'll answer my questions, too," Amareth fired back smoothly. She had eaten her fill, finally. She wasn't used to the quality of this food; it was rich, but not heavy. "Lord I've eaten enough for about three days. I need to work some of this off."

"Then let us adjourn to the practice arena," Glorfindel replied as he nodded to Tithuen. "I will take care with your lady, Tithuen, fear not. Well, then, shall we?" He offered her his arm.

She took it, again feeling her face color at the smoothness of his conversation. She wasn't at all sure she should be alone with him; and then she shook herself mentally. He wasn't interested in her, per se; he wanted to pump her for information. Well, she wasn't above doing the same. She needed to know how she got here, what had happened to her, and why she was here.

She had already placed Glorfindel fairly high in the food chain here; he was on easy terms with Elrond, who was the head cheese. Made sense for him to be of high rank himself, though it certainly hadn't been mentioned. She would need to watch her step with him. He was a smooth talker, and that voice of his sent chills up her spine. She had to be careful not to be taken in by his flirtatious ways and sweet words.

The walk was more than pleasant. The gardens were between them and the arena, so they made a pass through them on the way, and Amareth was delighted with the beauty of the flowers, again feeling that subtle pull of energy. She could feel the life around her, all of it, and it was a heady feeling. She reveled in it for only a moment before resolutely closing the connection between them. Again, it was not a conscious decision to do so. Some subconscious sense of self-preservation had kicked in to protect her.

The sound of sword-play reached her ears, a solid sound of metal ringing upon metal, and Glorfindel ushered her through the entryway into the arena. She had to squash the urge to stand and gawk at the sight before her; two Elven males were sparring, and there was not a markable difference between them that she could see. Twins. She didn't know Elves could be twins. Heh, that was a laugh. Before that morning, she hadn't even known Elves existed, much less given thought to whether or not they could have twins.

One of the twins looked over at Glorfindel and lowered his weapon. "Mae govannen, Glorfindel! Who have you brought to us?"

His twin brought his sword down in a savage arc, and Amareth cried out as the flat of it rapped the top of the other's head smartly. "You should know better than to be distracted, Elladan," he chided, none too gently. "Even if she is pretty. I could have killed you, if I wanted." He turned to Amareth, grinning. "Welcome, Lady, to Rivendell. I am Elrohir, and my forgetful twin is Elladan."

"This is Lady Amareth," Glorfindel said quickly as he stifled a smirk. The twins worked together well, and always had, and he could count on them to train each other as well as he could. However, Elrohir was right; Elladan should not have allowed himself to be distracted. "Elladan, what were you thinking? I have taught you better than that. Or do you need some refresher courses with me?" There was a glint in his eye that spoke volumes to the younger Elf.

Elladan squirmed under the Balrog Slayer's gaze. It had been a rank beginner's mistake, and he knew it. "Forgive me. It won't happen again."

"Correct. Take the patrol to the south, Elladan, and keep a watchful eye on the situation there. Return in seven days and report."

Elladan nodded crisply and took his leave, his step heavy. Amareth watched him go, wondering at the harsh treatment and then understanding. Glorfindel was disciplining the younger Elf in a way that would stay with him. She thought he was right; he would not make that particular mistake again. "I'm pleased to meet you, Elrohir," she remarked into the ensuing silence.

Elrohir took her hand and kissed it lightly, a twinkle in his dark eyes. "He's been too cocky by half for several days, my lady, and that was just the thing he needed to take the edge off. I thank you for that. What brings you to Rivendell? Perhaps I might be of assistance."

Amareth found herself blushing yet again. "Maybe another time," she said firmly. "Right now Glorfindel has dibs on my time. Try me later." She grinned for Glorfindel. "You wanted to hear about my people, learn about how we fight? Ready to take some lumps?"

Glorfindel nodded. He wasn't exactly certain what her words meant, but she obviously meant to spar. "Your choice of weapon, my lady, since you are a guest." He bowed to her.

She bowed back as Elrohir handed her some leathers and stepped away. She made quick work of the change in a shadowy corner and returned to take up a fighting stance. "One of the first things they teach you in the Marine Corps is hand-to-hand fighting. I didn't hold the highest ranking in martial arts, but it was up there." She arched an eyebrow at him. "Ready?"

Glorfindel nodded once, his eyes never leaving hers. He dodged to one side quickly as she came at him, all hands and flying feet, and managed to get one good strike in. She grunted and danced backward, her eyes glinting dangerously.

Damn but he was fast! Amareth growled at herself for missing the action that would have warned her. She would have to try harder. She went on the attack again, and this time she spotted the minute signal she had missed before. She managed to block his strike, but still couldn't land her own. He was just too fast, too agile for her to hit. She was beginning to get annoyed. Again she pressed the attack, and again he danced out of her reach, without her landing a strike. If he kept it up, this would be a long match. Oh, well, it would give her the workout she needed.

Unfortunately, he seemed to know all the same moves she'd been taught. And he wasn't holding back any longer, either. He had turned the tables on her as neat as could be and she was hard pressed to keep him from scoring on her. Then she forgot to even think as she worked to keep his hands away. He was fast, he was agile, he was graceful, and she was losing. She could feel it.

Time to change tactics. She danced back, eyeing him carefully, and deliberately left him an opening to attack. He did so…

… but the outcome wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind. He scored another hit, a blow to her stomach that she barely managed to deflect. The impact rocked her onto her heels and she quickly stepped into a spin, kicking out, only to have him grasp her ankle and flip her over.

She barely managed to recover, forcing the spin under her control and still managing to land on her feet. She thought she detected a note of respect in his eyes for the move but she wasn't given time to analyze it. She went on the defensive again, but too late.

The blow stopped just short of her throat and she gulped. He had gotten so far inside her guard so quickly that if he'd meant to, he could have killed her. And there was no way to deflect it, not from her current position. She met his eyes and nodded as she stepped away. "You win this round," she said firmly. "You're good, you're really good."

Glorfindel nodded as well as he also stepped back, putting some distance between them. "You have an admirable amount of strength, for a mortal," he replied graciously. "That blow would have sent most men to their knees."

"Practice." She grinned at him. "Something I do every day, I practice. Exercise, stay in condition. Think that'll be a problem here?"

He barely considered her request. "No, it should not be. All warriors have the right to practice their art, especially in these times." He looked around and raised that brow at her once more. "It seems we have drawn quite an audience," he said softly.

Amareth turned to the rail also and felt herself color. There were a lot of watchers. Elrohir detached himself and came to them, his face a study in concern.

"Are you hurt, my lady?" he asked quietly. "That was quite a hit." He was thinking of the bruises he had suffered from training with Glorfindel, and she didn't have the advantage of an Elf's strength to draw on. He was quite prepared to take on his teacher if she was; Glorfindel should have known better than to use his full strength on a mortal.

"Only my pride, Elrohir, only my pride," she replied with a tiny laugh. "It's been a long time since anyone scored on me so well, or so quickly. I'll take the bruises to know what to look for next time."

She looked down at the leathers when Glorfindel offered her his arm again and shrugged. She was certainly more comfortable in them than in that wretched gown. She gave Elrohir another smile and took the offered arm. "I take it this means it's time to go back?" she asked him quietly.

"Indeed, it is getting late. Perhaps you would like to visit the Hall of Fire? There are always stories being told, and music." His voice was like velvet, she told herself, thick, luxurious velvet, and she shook her head to dispel the effect it was having on her.

"No, I think maybe I should go back to my room," she said suddenly. "I think I've done enough for one day." A jaw-popping yawn escaped before she could stifle it and she hoped he hadn't noticed.

He had. He stopped on the path, turning her to face him, his eyes searching her face. "Perhaps you are right," he said softly. "Your wounds are not yet healed, and this was more perhaps than you should have indulged in. Do they pain you, should I fetch Lord Elrond?"

His guilt was almost palpable and she didn't think twice. She placed her hand palm down on his chest. "I'm not hurt, I promise. I'm just very, very tired. Please, don't worry. I'll be fine." She didn't want him feeling guilty about their sparring match; after all, she'd started it.

He didn't argue the point, but he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the house, settling her on the chaise in her room as gently as though he were handling spun glass, and settled next to her. "You will tell me if you require a healer," he said bluntly. "I am responsible for the warriors here; which would make me responsible for your well-being as well." He gave her a small smile. "Tomorrow, if you are able for it, I will begin to teach you the sword. We will go slowly; but you must learn. These are unsettled times." Again he shied away from telling her the whole truth. He simply could not believe she was a threat; but the fact remained that he didn't know. "All aid would be welcome."

"Maybe that's why I was brought here," Amareth murmured sleepily as she lay down on the coverlet. "Got to be a reason, don't know what it is…" Her voice trailed off as she fell into slumber.

Glorfindel regarded her sleeping form for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he covered her with a sheet and left the room. He needed to talk to his lord.

**LadyDeb1970: I am so glad you're liking this story! Fear not, Elrond has a reason for those hateful words… all shall be revealed. evil cackling**

**DreadLadyFreya: Oh, there's so much more to give you about this maniacal grin Keep reading, faithful friend… there's much more to her than even Elrond has guessed, yet… **


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life would be a lot poorer. Never change, any of you. **

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

**Chapter Five**

Elrond regarded Glorfindel seriously. "You perceive no threat from her?"

"None. There is no deceit in her. She fights as a warrior fights, with honor and courage. She could have taken many unfair advantages, and failed to do so. They simply did not occur to her." Glorfindel met Elrond's gaze steadily. "She has been discreet almost to the point of silence about her people and her world, and yet she has not refused to answer any question put to her. And she has adapted well to our ways and traditions, has respected them as she would respect her own. This says much of her honesty to me."

"Tithuen reports much the same to me," Erestor inserted in his quiet way. "She has been respectful and kind to all who speak to her, and gracious as well. Tithuen is very good at spotting deception, and she has seen none."

Elrond was silent for a long moment. Finally he spoke, choosing his words carefully. "In my studies, I have found little reference to the Elementals. That this woman has such power and yet seems unaware of it is disturbing to me. It is written that the Elementals were raised from birth with the knowledge of how to control their abilities, and yet she does not seem to even have a conscious awareness of them. Also, the Elementals were ancient when we came to these shores, and yet she is very young, even for a mortal. It is puzzling."

He rose and stepped across to a window, gazing out into the night. "I had no foresight of her arrival, indeed, she seems hidden from my gift," he said slowly. "I cannot see into her future. It may be that she is simply a pawn in the greater struggle we all face. But we must be certain before a decision is made."

Glorfindel shifted slightly. "There is another problem you should consider," he said slowly as Elrond pivoted to face him. "I can no longer guarantee my objectivity where Amareth is concerned. I… am fond of her. I respect her as a warrior… and as a friend."

Erestor swiveled to face Glorfindel as Elrond drew in a breath. "Then we must consider her a friend, unless she proves otherwise. I have always trusted your judgment, mellon-nin, and you have never disappointed me. You will teach her, then, our ways and weapons, that she may help us when the time comes."

Glorfindel nodded and departed. Elrond then turned to Erestor. "This is a most unexpected development, and one I am not certain I care for," he said simply. "Evil is being drawn to the Ring from without the Fellowship, and I fear from within. I had hoped to send word to them, a warning."

"You know this?" Erestor questioned carefully. He knew what his lord needed. Elrond needed someone to make him question his foresight, to confirm what he had seen. He needed to talk, and Erestor would listen.

"I have not seen it. It is a feeling, nothing more, and a deduction based on the Ring's power." Elrond paused for a moment. "It is, as Gandalf has said, altogether evil. We all saw the reaction it had on Boromir. I fear that even now, the Ring is attempting to sway him."

"There is nothing you can do now, my lord, without jeopardizing the quest." Erestor was firm. "If you send a messenger, Sauron will know and all secrecy will be lost. The only hope of the Ring's destruction is in secrecy. And perhaps things are not so dire as you fear, not yet. Perhaps Amareth's coming is a counter to this, perhaps she is, in some way, a check on the Ring's power over Boromir. And perhaps not; I fear only time will tell give us the answer, and time is in short supply."

"I fear you are correct." Elrond took another deep breath and paced again. "We must proceed on the assumption that Amareth is not a threat. Perhaps she is the answer we seek. Glorfindel will train her, if there is time." He had a sense of urgency, as though time were short, but no clear foresight to work from. Disaster seemed to loom on the horizon, but he could not know what form it would take. "We will need every hand should the worst occur."

Erestor nodded agreement. "Tithuen shall remain as her maid. If anything untoward does occur, we will know." He rose to take his leave. "Fear not, my lord, you are as protected as we can keep you. No evil will touch you, so long as we live."

Elrond remained in his study, considering. He still was not completely convinced that Amareth was harmless; nor was he certain that she was indeed an Elemental, though all the signs led to that conclusion. She had demonstrated power over both water and earth, which was unheard of. Each Elemental documented in his studies had control over only one of the elements; that she seemed able to master more than one was suspicious. And yet… there was no feeling of evil from her. He had been in close proximity to her for several days while she healed, and never in that time had he felt the presence of evil. Surely it would have manifested at least a faint trace while she had been senseless, if she had been sent by Sauron.

Perhaps more time spent in the girl's company would ease his misgivings. He resolved to have her brought to him when she awoke, and they would talk.

* * *

Amareth woke slowly, as she was seldom able to do, enjoying the gradual process until she finally opened her eyes. Damn, she had hoped the whole thing had been a dream, that she had somehow been hallucinating as a result of her wounds. Unfortunately, it appeared she hadn't, so she rose to make do with another day in this place and try to find out why and how she had been brought here.

The sun was high in the sky and she groaned. She'd slept half the day, by the look of things. Not her way at all, though she supposed it was to be expected. The previous day had taken a lot out of her. And she felt much more rested.

She was struck by a sudden thought and stood, perplexed, half in and half out of her uniform, which had been returned to her sometime during the night. She was a Marine; she had been trained to be wary in strange places, to not relax her guard until she had been satisfied that she was completely safe, and then still she usually slept so lightly that a mouse scurrying across the floor should have awakened her. That she had slept so deeply and for so long confused her. She knew nothing about this place, how could she feel so secure, so safe?

She finished doing up her uniform, making certain everything was good to go. It wouldn't do to appear sloppy, not at all. She debated putting a new spit shine on her boots, but decided against it, only in light of the fact that she wasn't certain what she'd be doing that day. Glorfindel had said something about sword training.

A soft tap on the door facing alerted her and she spun, smiling when she realized that Tithuen must have been lurking about all morning waiting for her to get her lazy arse out of bed. "Morning," she said quietly. "I don't suppose there's any food around?"

"I brought you a tray when I realized you were awake," was the calm reply. The Elf set it on a nearby table and Amareth fought to keep from drooling over the scents emanating from it. "After you have broken your fast, Lord Elrond wishes your presence. I will take you to him when you are ready."

Amareth nodded and started her meal, in full Marine mode. Which meant simply that she was finished in a matter of minutes instead of lingering over everything to savor it. Quickly she rose, wiped her mouth, grabbed her helmet, and indicated that Tithuen should lead the way while she finished chewing that last bite. It didn't do to keep the higher-ups waiting, not ever.

She didn't put on the helmet, though. She was still indoors; regs said you only covered your head out of doors. But she'd have it with her when she did go out. Her hair she twisted up into the normal braid as they walked and when they reached the study, she was as ready as she would have been at home. Tithuen knocked lightly and gestured her inside when Elrond answered.

She entered the room and crossed to meet the Elf Lord, her expression respectful. "You wanted to see me, sir?" she inquired politely. Military courtesy, that was the ticket. She was a visitor on foreign soil, she needed to respect their leaders. She remained upright, waiting for him to set the tone of the meeting.

Elrond raised that delicate eyebrow again, but it was tempered by a slight smile. "Please, be seated. This is not an interrogation, Amareth."

She slid into the chair opposite his desk, still maintaining a respectful posture. "Of course, sir." She was firmly back into her professional persona. A refuge, of sorts; it was a rigid code of behavior that would protect her from inadvertently insulting her host.

Elrond gazed at her a moment, assessing. She was completely different from when he had found her, and it disturbed him. She was obviously a warrior, right down to her boots. Of course, she had been gravely wounded when he had first seen her, and still recovering. Now she fairly radiated health and discipline. "I would speak with you of your world, if you have no objections. I realize we spoke on the journey here, but I find myself in need of answers I fear only you can provide."

Amareth nodded. Obviously this was an informal meeting. She relaxed slightly; he patently meant her no harm, he was only curious. "Of course. What would you like to know? I'm afraid I won't be a lot of help. I don't know much more than what I've already told you."

"Then we will begin again," Elrond said patiently. "Please tell me everything you can."

So she did. From the moment she left the tent until she had awakened in the valley, everything that had happened, her thoughts, her reactions, and the certainty that she had been about to die. "The last thing I remember before I woke up here was the sound of that shot. I'm a medic, a doctor. I know a fatal shot when I see one. That close to my heart or my spine, I should be dead. That's all I know."

"You are a healer?" Elrond made a mental note of that tidbit. Perhaps she could aid him in healing if necessary.

"Yes. I'm a trained Marine, but my duty was to help the wounded on the battlefield. I can fight, I can shoot, and I can hold my own when necessary, but my main focus is on the wounded." She knew he had received word of yesterday's sparring match, from the slight nod of his head when she mentioned she knew how to fight. "It was my job to see that they made it home alive."

"And did you have much success with this?" The ways of her people were still a mystery to him. Warfare without direct contact was simply inconceivable, as it had been to Glorfindel. "Even with these guns you mention, it must have been difficult. Did you use much magic in their care?"

"Magic?" Amareth laughed softly. "First Glorfindel, now you. He asked me if there was no magic in my world, and I never answered him, but the answer is no. Blood, sweat, and hard work, a lot of study, but no magic. We did it the hard way, by studying the body and then putting the knowledge into use. And yes, it was difficult. When a body takes that much trauma, as in the case of a gunshot, you only have a specific amount of time to prevent, if not death, then loss of function in whatever was hit." She wasn't going to mention the rockets, or the bombs, or anything else they had that these people didn't. She couldn't reproduce them anyway; and it sounded to her like these people would find such weapons offensive and dishonorable. The thought bothered her; as a Marine, she held honor in very high regard. But when seen from their point of view, it was understandable.

"And you are well versed in these ways, the use of medicines without magic." He was completely puzzled. She had the magic within her, he had touched it himself. She had such an elemental grasp of life energies…

Valar, that was it. She was no Elemental at all. She embodied the spirit of the world itself! The realization struck him hard though he kept himself composed. "And you are certain there was no magic involved in your treatment of these wounded warriors?" he questioned idly. She had no idea what she was, of that he was certain. Her use of power had been, until now, very vague and unfocused, as though unpracticed.

"None. I was raised believing that magic didn't exist." The thought bothered her somewhat; her mother had, until her death, insisted there was more to the world than her father preached. She believed in the old ways of her people, a people her father had sworn never to allow her to visit. He had done his best to erase her mother's teachings… and failed miserably. Was there something more to her mother's words after all? "But the men I tended had a higher survival rate than any other medic in the field, or so I was told," she said slowly. "And a higher recovery rate. The unit I was with when I was shot considered me a kind of good luck charm. I was the most sought after medic in the entire battalion."

"There must have been more to your healing than you realize," Elrond replied firmly. "And you have no idea how you accomplished such a feat?"

"My mother told me something once," she explained quietly, lost in her memories. "She said that she chose my name for a reason. I was to be Amareth, she said, because it meant 'the world.' She said it would bind me to the world and give me strength. I never understood that."

"Amareth is, in Elvish, 'Earth.'" Elrond watched her closely as he spoke. She seemed lost in her memories, which for some reason seemed painful to her. "Another translation could be 'the world.' It seems your mother knew more than she told you." He paused a moment. "Those memories seem to cause you pain. I am sorry."

"It's only painful because my father and mother were from two very different cultures," she replied softly. "My father was so stalwart in his beliefs, I never understood what brought him and my mother together. She gave up everything when she married him. But deep inside, she must have held onto her people's ways; she told me about them when Father wasn't around. She told me about the life spirits, the kachina. They were the spirits of life, able to heal, to give life to the world." She gave Elrond a look that spoke plainly of her confusion. "My father hated the name Mother gave me; he always called me by my middle name. He wanted nothing to do with what he considered her heathen beliefs."

Elrond almost closed his eyes at the pain in her voice. That her father could have been so cruel to her seemed beyond belief; yet the evidence was before him. Her distress was almost visible to him. "Forgive me for causing you such pain," he said softly. "That was never my intent."

"I'm okay," she replied as she got herself under control. She'd never had this intense a reaction to her upbringing, and certainly not in front of a near stranger. But his kindness and hospitality had been genuine, the first genuine emotion she had ever received from anyone in her life, to be honest. Except from her mother, and that had been so long ago that she barely remembered it. "It's over. And we still don't know how I got here." She was plainly trying to turn the conversation back to their purpose, and Elrond admired her persistence. "Or why."

"I believe I may now have the answer we seek," he replied softly. "I do not know the how, but the why is perhaps connected to the struggle all of Arda finds itself waging against the Shadow. One more warrior for the Light might not be enough; but I believe it is why you were brought to us at this time." He retrieved a very old book from one of the shelves and opened it to a specific page. "I believe your purpose is to thwart the darkness' plan in some way. That much is clear; but in what fashion is not yet known to me. Perhaps it is the healing of our warriors on the field, perhaps something more. I must study further."

"You keep talking about this struggle, a fight against the darkness, the Shadow." Amareth wanted some answers of her own, now. She'd answered all his questions, apparently to his satisfaction; now it was her turn. "I need to know what you're talking about. If I'm going to be involved in this fight, I need to know what I'm fighting for."

Elrond had hoped to avoid discussing the Ring, but he realized that in light of her confessions to him, he must return the favor. And if she was to somehow affect the balance, she should know why.

He began his narrative with the forging of the Rings of power, and of the secret making of the One Ring. He told her everything, right up to the moment the Fellowship left Rivendell, moving toward Mordor to destroy the Ring. "Even now, they journey toward Mount Doom, the only place the Ring may be unmade. And yet I fear evil is being drawn to the Ring even from within the company. One among them demonstrated a weakness for the Ring even before the decision was made to send it to the Fire. If they should fail…"

"Then Sauron wins the ball game and controls everything." Amareth never considered that he might be making the whole thing up; the situation she had found herself in fit perfectly with what he had told her. "Not the best ending. Can't some other effort be made? An assault on one or more of his fortresses, a diversion, to buy them some time? And why did you send this guy if you thought he was susceptible to the Ring's influence?" Her head was beginning to hurt, but she had to help. Why else was she here?

"We have not the numbers to attack Sauron openly, not even were the Elves remaining in Middle Earth. Many have already sailed for Valinor; we few who are left are but a handful, not enough to challenge him. No, there must be another way."

She heard the distress in his voice, deep under the effort he made to hide it from her. The situation was more desperate than he wanted her to believe. "We'll think of something," she said firmly. "Failure isn't an option. Whatever happens, we'll be ready."

Elrond nodded his appreciation to her. "For now, you must learn as much as you can. Glorfindel will teach you the sword, and I will teach you our ways of healing. I think that you will prove a most apt student." Another slight smile graced his features. "And you must not overreach your strength. If you tire while you are still healing, you are to rest. Are my instructions clear to you, Amareth?"

"Yes, sir," she replied crisply. "Where do you want me to start?"

"For now, you will study most with Glorfindel. I will send for you this evening and we will visit the infirmary together, that I may see your methods of healing." He turned his attention back to his studies and she fought the urge to salute him. It was as clear a dismissal as she had ever heard, so she turned and took her leave.


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life would be a lot poorer. Never change, any of you. **

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

**Chapter Six**

"Pay attention, Amareth!" Glorfindel barked as he once more scored a hit with the practice sword. "You will have to do much better than this if you wish to fight."

Amareth swore loudly as she danced back, holding her side. She had been in training for what seemed like weeks, and she was making little if any progress. She swung herself back into ready position, determined to get the better of him at least once during this session. So far, she hadn't managed it.

Glorfindel came at her again, and she managed to block his strike but not to counter it. She held firm, muscles straining, and kept him from advancing or bringing his blade closer, and considered it a minor victory when he stepped back and saluted her. "That was much better. But an Orc will not fight fairly as I have done. You will have to do much better if you wish to stay alive."

She nodded wearily. She knew she wasn't progressing as quickly as he thought she should. "I'll work on it," she rasped as she heaved for breath. It wasn't that she was out of condition; but the strength she needed for a sword was a lot different for what she had to have for a rifle. She still had the endurance and the conditioning, but it was in the wrong places. She felt like she was back in boot camp.

"Take some time to rest," he said kindly. "You have been working very hard. Perhaps you might enjoy a walk in the gardens, or an evening in the Hall of Fire," he suggested kindly.

"No time," she replied as she stepped further back and hefted her sword again. "I need to master this, and I have evenings in the Infirmary with Lord Elrond." She started to run through another practice set and he deliberately stepped in and blocked her blade.

"I have spoken with Lord Elrond, and he agrees with me. You have been working too hard. So, tonight is yours, to do with as you will." He relieved her of the sword and handed it off to one of the other warriors who had been watching. "As long as it is a restful activity. Go, enjoy your evening." He turned her toward the house and gave her a gentle shove forward.

He watched as she trudged toward the house, considering. She had already stood up to as much as many of his students, and she was no Elf. Her form was showing the intensity of her determination; no longer was there a spare ounce of flesh anywhere to be found upon her already slender frame. Neither was she thin; it was all sleek muscle, perfectly proportioned.

He shook his head. He had no business allowing his thoughts to wander down such a path. She was his student and his friend. However, he took great pleasure in bringing a blush to her cheeks and a laugh to her lips, and he did so often.

He pulled his mind back from useless conjecture and turned to his other students. But before he could draw a breath, the thunder of hooves approaching drew his attention and he spun to face the arrivals.

The troop he had sent south was returning, and all was not well. Elladan rode in the forefront, where he belonged, but the Elfling was badly injured. It didn't take a practiced eye to see it, either; he held himself stiffly in the saddle and there was a great deal of blood on the saddle skirt. His left leg was held rigid, and there was a black feathered arrow shaft protruding from midway between his knee and hip. Many of the others were also sporting various wounds, but Elladan's was the worst.

He sprang forward to help the young one, noticing as he did that his first estimate had been short of the mark: there wasn't an unharmed Elf among them. It did not bode well for the Fellowship's success; Elladan had been tracking them as far south as he dared.

He took Elladan into his arms to carry him into the Infirmary; the rest appeared to be at least capable of independent movement. Elladan seemed to have little if any strength left.

Erestor had summoned Elrond within moments of the troop's arrival and he arrived in the Infirmary quickly, followed immediately by Amareth. She scurried to Elladan's bedside and quickly took stock of the situation. "We can't do anything else until we can get the point out," she ground out. "And it looks like it's in there pretty deep. He's lost a lot of blood, too. We can't wait long." She looked up to Elrond for confirmation.

Elrond had cast his own practiced eye over the wound and nodded his agreement. "There will be much more bleeding once we remove the tip," he murmured as he placed a gentle hand on his son's brow. "We will need to work quickly." He began to gather his healing magic as he stirred a draught for pain.

Amareth nodded and placed her hand over the shaft, gripping it firmly, and gave it a swift jerk to free it from the abused muscle. Elladan gave a strangled scream of pain as the point of the arrow came free, and then lapsed back into near unconsciousness. Thank the Mother it hadn't nicked the artery or Elladan would already be dead! Her fingers went swiftly to the injury as it started to bleed again and as she touched the ragged edge of the puncture, she again felt that slight tingle of energy run through her. Was it magic? Could she heal him that way? She heard Elrond give a stifled sound of what might have been protest as she brushed his hands aside. There was no time to debate who should do the healing; Elladan was bleeding to death and she could stop it, she knew she could. She focused on the wound and felt the tissue begin to knit under her fingertips, and had to force herself not to squeal in surprise or wrench her hands from the Elf's leg. She held that position until the skin had closed over the wound, heedless of the consternation with which she was being regarded by those present.

As she drew her hands away, she felt a wave of exhaustion crash through her and it took a supreme effort for her to remain upright. She stared at where the wound had been, not quite taking in the healthy cast of the flesh now in its place.

"Come, Amareth, you should rest," Glorfindel murmured as he helped her to stand. "Elrond will care for his son now. You must rest."

She nodded wearily and allowed him to support her out of the room, and then she collapsed against him, finally fully aware of what she had done. She had taken such a chance with Elladan's life! What if she had been wrong? She could have killed him with the few seconds it took to make the decision, if it hadn't worked. What was happening to her? She felt herself begin to shake and tears spilled over.

Glorfindel gathered her up and took her to her room, settling on the chaise with her in his lap, stroking her hair and crooning soft Elvish phrases to try and calm her. He had known that under her hard exterior, she was truly frightened of what had happened to her and what she had become. It touched his heart to see her so reduced by that fear, and he resolved to do whatever he could to lessen it.

He held her until she had fallen into an exhausted slumber and then placed her gently into her bed, covered her with a light blanket, and tucked a wayward strand of her hair back from her face. Then he returned to the Infirmary. Elladan would have a report for them when he woke, and he needed to hear it.

**TBC…**


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING!! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life would be a lot poorer. Never change, any of you. **

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

**Chapter Seven**

"It is hard to explain when I do not have Gandalf's reasoning," Elladan remarked quietly. "Nevertheless, the Fellowship has turned from their path. They have entered into Moria."

"I cautioned Gandalf against such madness before they left," Elrond said, his voice heavy. "I had no clear foresight, but I fear that once past the gates of Moria, he will not return. Let us hope that I am wrong."

"You mustn't blame yourself even if something does happen, Ada," Elrohir said softly from the other side of the bed. "It cannot be laid at your door. Gandalf must have been hard-pressed to make such a choice; he would never have simply ignored your counsel."

"Elrohir is correct, my lord," Glorfindel stated as he stepped into the room. "All the Companions were aware they might not reach their destination, yet they chose to go full willing. You can be held accountable for them no longer." He noticed Elrond's arched brow. "I left her asleep. I judge she has taken no harm from her exercise, though she fears what she has become."

"Ada?" Elladan's voice was soft. "You have yet to explain what happened here. My leg is healed, completely. I had believed the wound to be much more severe than to be countered so quickly."

Elrond took a deep breath. "Never in my wildest imaginings could I have perceived how powerful she is," he said slowly. "I did not heal you, _ion nin_. Amareth did so, and with only a touch. And if she had not, you would surely have died. There was too much blood." Only by sheer will had he held back his fear for his son. That Amareth had demonstrated such power awed him, and his gratitude was great. Still, he feared for them all, should Sauron regain the Ring. Even her power would not save them then.

"They entered Moria nearly a week past," Elladan continued firmly, sensing his father's discomfort and trying to deflect it. "They should be through to the other side, and near the refuge of Lothlorien. Galadriel would send word if there was cause for concern."

Elrond nodded. "Indeed. Perhaps we may rest easy for a time. I cannot, however, dismiss this sense of urgency that has been making itself felt. Time is running short, but why I do not yet know. I must discover its origin."

He rose, and with a final pat for Elladan's hand, withdrew from the room. The twins regarded each other steadily, and Elladan rose. "I know that expression, brother. One of us should be on hand to be certain he does not overreach his own strength."

Elrohir bowed his head in agreement, though he patently disapproved of his brother's early departure from the Infirmary. He had seen Amareth's miraculous healing of the wound, but he was still uncertain of whether or not the effects would be permanent. "You watch Ada, and I will watch over you. We cannot take chances, not now. War may still march upon our borders, even should the Ring be destroyed."

"In which case we will be ready," Glorfindel stated firmly. "Make certain your father does not overtax himself. I will order the defenses and set the watch. Have Erestor see to the household security. Rivendell will not fall to the Shadow, not while we have strength left to resist." He stopped for only a moment in the doorway and half turned back to the twins. "And we must take extra precautions to see that Amareth is protected as well. We still do not know her purpose here; but her healing powers will be a tremendous asset. She cannot be lost to us."

* * *

Elrond wandered through the gardens, his fingers idly touching a flower, a leaf, a stalk, but not really considering his actions. He was lost in thought, desperately trying to understand why Gandalf had forsaken the very path he had proposed. Orcs had ambushed the patrol he had sent to track the Fellowship, and that should not be, either.

Once again he felt the horror of knowing his son was wounded so badly, that he had been so near death. The pain struck him again, like a dagger to his heart, and he nearly doubled over from it. That he would not have known…

Of course, he chided himself sternly. Fathers had lost sons without knowledge of their deaths since the dawn of time. That Elladan had been able to return home had given him an opportunity that many fathers had not had.

A mist began to creep over his vision and he sank onto the nearest bench. It would not do to fall in the dirt when it could be avoided.

Galadriel's voice echoed within his head. "Gandalf the Grey has fallen into Shadow," she said tonelessly. "The rest of the Company remains within Lothlorien, for a time. Yet we cannot long hold them from their purpose. Sauron is gathering all evil to him; the Ring must be destroyed, and quickly. I fear it has already begun to exert its influence within the Company. Boromir is beginning to show signs of surrendering to the Ring's evil. I fear he will try to take it from Frodo."

Elrond stiffened. This was disturbing news. That he had been so wrong about Boromir was galling to him. He had sensed such honor in the man, such valor; he could not have been so mistaken.

Swiftly he recounted the recent events to Galadriel. Everything, including Amareth's miraculous healing of Elladan. He spared nothing from his narrative.

"If indeed this mortal woman is as you say, she will be a great asset against the Shadow. She will be needed; many warriors may be saved that might otherwise perish. Will you hold her back, when she is so desperately needed? Will you hold her in reserve, uncertain of need, at the expense of all who live?"

A decision was reached. He communicated his plans to her, stung by her questions, and yet understanding the necessity for them. The connection was broken, and he began to rise, only to feel another wave overtake him. This one was different, and yet just as familiar as the first.

The scene unfolded and he drew in a sharp breath. The Quest was in deadly peril, and it was as yet unknown to them. This must not be allowed to occur!

It faded and he slumped slightly, only to feel strong arms come around him from both sides to support him as he rose. "We have you, Ada. Come, we have strong tea for you and then you will tell us what you have seen."

* * *

"This Council is called for purposes of our defense." Elrond's voice was dry; he remembered all too clearly the last Council he had held. "This day, we prepare for war. The Enemy is moving. We must counter it."

Glorfindel rose. "Our borders are secure, my lord. No evil will penetrate this valley, on my honor. We are as prepared as possible."

"It is not this valley that concerns me at this time, Glorfindel. No, this is much more serious. The Fellowship remains in Lothlorien, but they will not stay there much longer. When they depart, there will be an attempt to take the Ring from Frodo. This must not be allowed to happen. The Ring must be destroyed."

Silence. All eyes were upon him, and he resisted the urge to squirm. Six thousand years he had walked the world, and speaking with such authority still bothered him. How he wished there were someone to take the burden from him! "It would be selfish of the Elves to withhold such a valuable asset from the world." His eyes fell upon Amareth, whom he had asked to attend, and then shifted back to the group as a whole. "Boromir will attempt to take the Ring. He will fail; but the delay will be enough to allow Saruman's Uruk-hai to find them. The Fellowship will be broken, and yet all hope is not lost. Boromir will not surrender to this evil, not completely. He will come to his senses and regret his actions, and the Ring will no longer be able to sway him. He will defend the Hobbits until his dying breath; but I cannot see which Hobbits he is defending. We must be certain it is not Frodo, for the Halflings will be taken by the Uruks."

"They are far to the south, many days' journey from here. Will they remain in Lorien long enough for us to reach them?" Elladan chimed in. "And you have said that Gandalf has fallen. What hope now truly remains?"

"So long as the Ring remains safely with Frodo, there is hope," Elrond countered swiftly. "There is still time. We may perhaps buy more."

"How?" Elrohir was incredulous. "With Gandalf lost, hope fades quickly."

"I propose a small contingent to rendezvous with what remains of the Fellowship. All hope of secrecy has been lost; it will become a race to see if the Ring may be destroyed before Sauron destroys the world of Men. And war may yet march upon our own borders; we cannot leave the valley undefended. No, I suggest a messenger to warn the Company of their peril, and perhaps an escort for this messenger. They must travel swiftly, and remain unseen. Amareth?"

She had risen, her face expressionless and stark. "I'll go. If there's going to be fighting, I'll be needed. That's what I do, I put people back together when war tears them apart." She kept her gaze fixed on Elrond, though she knew the others were regarding her with some concern. "If there's a chance I can save even one of them, I have to go."

"You cannot yet wield a sword, how will you defend yourself if the Uruk-hai find you?" Glorfindel objected quickly. "Against sword and bow, there is little your unarmed training will accomplish."

"I don't know where I'm going, either, but I'm still volunteering," she shot back smoothly. "I have to do this. It's what I was trained to do, to be on the front lines, to heal those I could. If I can save just one life, it's worth risking my own."

"Glorfindel is correct; your training will not save you. Yet I see also your need to do this, to heal what harm has been done." Elrond held her gaze, assessing. "I cannot see into your future," he said slowly, "so I cannot know if this is why you were sent to us. I believe, however, that we must no longer hold you safe here in Imladris. You will be needed, and soon. War marches on all lands. We must put all our forces into play, even you."

Amareth nodded and took her seat, pointedly avoiding Glorfindel's eye. She knew she was no good with a sword; but she could help the wounded, and from the way Elrond sounded, there could be a lot of them. She practically itched to get to work. And quite simply, it stung to have her shortcomings aired like dirty laundry.

"She has demonstrated a phenomenal ability to heal. There will be great need for this, of course." Elrond regarded her steadily, and then included Glorfindel in his gaze. "I believe she must go. Men may be weak, and Boromir may fall to the Shadow for a time; but such a noble spirit should not be lost. I cannot see more than I have already revealed; and yet there is a sense that perhaps Boromir may be an important piece of this struggle. He should not be lost."

Glorfindel hated seeing Amareth angry with him, but the truth had to be told. She was not ready. And he did not wish to be responsible for her death in any fashion. "Valar, my lord, she cannot even sit a horse unaided! This is madness! Would you send her to her death so easily?"

"Be at ease, _mellon-nin,_" Elrond replied softly. "I do not propose sending her alone. Yet neither do I intend to organize a large expedition. It is my considered opinion that a minimal number of messengers will attract a minimal amount of attention."

His eyes swept the Council again. "The swiftest passage to Lothlorien is by water. A small ship is being prepared as we speak; all that remains is to decide upon Amareth's escort, for as Glorfindel states, she cannot go alone. She would be easy prey for the Uruk-hai."

Elladan rose to speak. "I will go, if for no other reason than this: Amareth saved my life. It is only just that I protect hers."

"And where my brother goes, I shall as well." Elrohir's voice was as strong as his twin's, his face as determined. "How many shall accompany us?"

"The need for secrecy is still great. Three travelers will draw little attention; and three shall journey faster than eight. You shall leave at dusk. And may the grace of the Valar protect you all."

Elrond watched as the young ones departed to ready themselves, his heart heavy at what he was asking of them. "Glorfindel, please stay." He had noted the worried gaze his warrior was giving the doorway. "What troubles you, _mellon-nin?_ She will be well protected. You trained them yourself and have had nothing but praise for their prowess. Or is it something worse that you fear?"

"I am sworn to protect you, Elrond, and to that I will hold," Glorfindel said slowly. "I know we are well defended here, and that we have no lack of warriors. And yet I must confess to some disturbance over your choice of escorts."

Elrond merely raised that sculpted eyebrow. "Indeed? And do you fear for her safety or that of my sons?"

Glorfindel's eyes widened slightly but that was all the indication he gave of his distress. "For all three, in actuality. Amareth is my friend, and the twins as dear to me as my own. I understand the necessity. Now I must accept it."

Elrond sat down heavily, all semblance of self-possession erased. Glorfindel was his oldest friend; there was no more need for pretense. "As I must accept it," he said softly. "Estel is not my son, and yet I love him thus. And still I sent him on this… quest hardly seems to describe the immensity of the undertaking. I have foresight, and yet it seems tainted because I cannot accept what it shows me. In one path, I see him restored to the world of Men, see him righting the wrongs perpetuated by Isildur. And yet another path shows him to me, broken and lifeless among the desolation of Mordor. And I cannot see which path is the true." He regarded Glorfindel with haunted eyes. "And the sons of my body, all I have left of Celebrian… they wish to do their part to thwart the Shadow, and who can fault them for such a noble purpose? Yet when they announced their decision to accompany Amareth, I felt a chill such as I have not felt in an age. And now they, too, are lost to my sight. I can no longer see into their futures."

"And what of Arwen?" Glorfindel queried softly. "Elladan and Elrohir are not the only children of you and Celebrian. What fate will you choose for your daughter?

"Arwen must take the ship. She _must_ be safe. I will accept nothing else for her. She will carry her love for Estel across the Sea, there to remain always true and ever green. She will be safe, when all here falls into ruin. Whether it happens now, or an age from now, the world will break, and all will fail. I will not leave her here to die."

"And if she chooses to remain, will you force her aboard ship? Mellon-nin, her love for him is as great as yours for her mother. If she chooses to stay with Estel, with Aragorn, will you force her away?"

Elrond lowered his eyes quickly, but not before the Balrog Slayer had seen the depth of the turmoil in his friend's spirit. "Then I must do as she wishes, for what father would not? I am not cruel, Fin, but I would make her see all the possibilities that she might make the right choice. And though it break my heart, she will choose as she wills." He rose then, his distress once more veiled from sight. "Come, we must be certain everything is in readiness for the journey."

**TBC...**


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.**

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

**Chapter Eight**

Amareth hastened to make herself as ready as she could. Knife, check, her uniform, check, heavy boots, definitely check, helmet… no go. Glorfindel had demonstrated quite quickly that it wouldn't stop a sword. It was in halves. It tore at her to leave it behind, but she had to.

She gathered herself together and went to join the twins, who waited for her at the end of the corridor. "Ready," she said evenly as she presented herself.

"No, you're not." Elladan took a critical glance at her and nodded to his brother, who brought out a set of rough, heavy leathers. "It might be familiar to you, but that won't hold up against rough travel, nor will it protect you if we get into a fight. The knife you keep. The rest, you change. Put these on."

Amareth glared, but they stood their ground and she gave in gracelessly. They knew best what kind of terrain they would be in after they left the river, of course. But the uniform was her last link with her home, and it wrenched at her to be parted from it.

"These, too. Softer boots, better for long marches. Still as sturdy as yours." She took them and slid them on, feeling the difference in weight though they still seemed as strong as her combat boots.

"One last thing." Amareth turned to face them, her irritation smoldering. What _else_ could they find fault with? Elladan handed her a small piece of parchment, sealed. "If we are separated, use the river to find your way to Lothlorien. Give this to the Elves who find you. It is a safe conduct from Ada to Lady Galadriel. She will help you."

Elrohir looked her up and down and nodded. "Now you stand out less, as well. There may be minions of the Shadow searching for you, as well as the Ring. This might slow them down."

Amareth understood their reasoning, and she tucked the parchment down safely into one boot. "Let's go, then. I'm as ready as I'll get."

They went together down to the river, where Elrond and Glorfindel waited for them. "Elladan, Elrohir… I have no words for you at this parting," Elrond said softly, "other than to wish you safe journey. My heart and hope will be with you. Return if you may; or if you need. May the Valar watch over and protect you on this journey. May you find the Fellowship in time." He gave them both a fierce embrace and stepped back, his eyes going to Amareth. "And may the Valar watch over and protect you as well, _mellon-nin._ I believe we have learned much from each other."

Glorfindel stepped forward and gave each twin a wrapped bundle. "These were crafted specially for you. Use them wisely and well. Go with my blessing and the hopes of all Rivendell as well." Then he handed Amareth a dagger, long and wicked-looking as she unsheathed it to inspect it. "This is a gift, from one warrior to another. It was made in Gondolin, long ago. It may not seem much… but it will help you protect yourself as well as the one you carry. Take it with my friendship, and safe journey to you all."

Amareth nodded and turned away, not wishing any of them to see how the gift had affected her, instead taking hold of the side of the little boat and hoping it wasn't as flimsy as it looked. She was more than touched by the gesture; and she understood it for what it was. It was a farewell. Finally, once she was situated in the tiny craft, she looked up, shading her eyes against the dusk. "Thank you, Lord Elrond, and thank you, Glorfindel, for the hospitality and training I've had during my stay. You have both been true friends, and for that, I'm grateful. I hope to come back here one day, if you're still here. I will do what I can as you've asked… and hope to see you both again."

She waited until the twins had joined her in the little boat, and then looked up again. It seemed not so much a parting now as a farewell; she seemed to know that she would not return here. The thought saddened her more than she would admit to anyone, even herself.

Elladan took up one of the oars, Elrohir the other, and they began to pull away from the bank. No more words were spoken and the sight of Elrond and Glorfindel waiting on the bank until they were out of sight stayed with her for a long time.

**TBC…**


	9. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.**

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

**Chapter Nine**

Amareth took one deep breath, then another, and finally was able to get her breathing back into some semblance of control as she sank to the ground on one of their rare rest breaks.

She and the twins had left Loríen three days ago and they hadn't really stopped moving since. They had followed the river path the Fellowship had taken and they knew they weren't far behind; but it was a grueling pace, even for a trained Marine. At least she wasn't under full combat gear. It was the only way she was keeping up. If she'd been carrying anything more, even a wafer of the _lembas_ bread that they'd been given, she'd have been left far behind. It was all she could do to stay on her feet.

They weren't far behind, they could tell. Elrohir had remarked that the trail was more than fresh; Hobbits left distinctive tracks, and they had spent many years tracking their foster brother as well. They could find him anywhere, or so they claimed, and Amareth didn't doubt them.

Sounds of running feet reached them and they rose as one, concern echoed in all three faces. If they were too late…

Voices rose and the twins exchanged glances full of consternation. Amareth wasn't ready for battle, but there was little choice. Then there was the unmistakable sounding of a horn and three swords cleared their scabbards instantly.

Cries of fury and anguish came to them as they threw themselves forward, searching for the source, following the sounds and the call of the horn until there was a sudden hush. There was nothing natural about it, and all three reached deep inside them for a final, desperate surge of speed.

Many long moments later, they dashed into the open, but nothing could have prepared them for what they encountered there.

Orcs, big ones, lay everywhere, dead or dying. Of the Fellowship, there was no sign as yet.

Elrohir was reading the signs left but having difficulty. The ground was spoiled; many, many Orc feet had tramped through it during the battle. And yet there were signs of the others. "Two Halflings were here," he said slowly as he touched the ground. "The Orcs came on them unaware, and they tried to flee. They were taken by the Orcs." Another few steps and another touch of the ground. This place was soaked with blood and his unease deepened. "One of the Men lay here, wounded unto death. Elladan…"

Elladan moved forward, Amareth close behind. "It wasn't Estel," he said softly as he knelt next to his brother. One hand brushed at the fallen leaves and came up with a shard of steel. "The blade was not Elvish. Yet you are right. Death lies heavy upon this place."

Amareth shook her head as she sheathed her own blade. "Then where's the body?" she asked quietly as she also knelt. "You said they were traveling by the river and we're a long way from the water's edge. All I see here are these things. No Men, nothing else." She kicked one of the Orcs. There was a hatred welling up inside her that she'd never encountered before, had never realized she could experience. She hadn't hated anyone before and the feeling was disconcerting to say the least.

"He was carried from here." As one, they looked toward the shore. "Estel would have given the fallen proper rites, no matter the urgency of his quest. We must find the remnants of their company and discover what happened here."

Even Amareth could feel the loss of life on the slope. There was a chill in the air that had nothing to do with the weather and she shivered slightly. Was it death she was feeling? She didn't know. She hadn't felt anything like it before. And to say it was disturbing was putting it mildly. It felt _wrong._

Nonetheless, she followed the twins to the shore. "Wait, didn't Galadriel say there were three boats?" she asked quickly as she went to the ship remaining on the beach. There were packs of supplies, but no weapons. Whoever had left here had done so on foot and traveling light.

Elladan was scanning the far shore and pointed quickly. "There is one of the ships," he said quietly. "That makes two. But where is the third?"

Elrohir was focusing on the water. "The Falls of Rauros aren't far from here," he said slowly. "Estel would have sent the fallen over with much reverence. There wasn't time for aught else."

"Then it's too late and we can't help them like we were supposed to." Amareth's voice was bitter. Too late, they were too late. They had been sent to prevent just this, and they had failed. "If it was one of the Men and you're certain it wasn't Estel, then it must have been Boromir. I was supposed to stop this somehow and I didn't." She shook her head and the chill she'd felt before wrapped itself more firmly around her heart. She sank to the ground, shivering and full of self-loathing.

Elrohir rose and peered southward, along the river. The Anduin ran swiftly forward, and if they hurried, they could catch the funeral boat before it had gone too far, even though it had already reached the falls. "All may not yet be lost," he said slowly. "Let's go. If we can catch that boat, perhaps we can yet affect the outcome of the Quest."

Amareth rose from her seat and grimaced. She wasn't sure she had another run in her, but they had to try. "How? If Boromir is dead, then what we came to stop has already happened." She was still shivering. The feel of death was heavy in this place, and it had seemed to seep into her very bones. But a thought was growing in her mind, an utterly impossible possibility, and if they managed to intercept Boromir before he reached the sea, she meant to try it.

Whatever magic this place had conferred on her, she meant to use. It had kept Elladan from bleeding to death. Would it breathe life back into the dead? She would find out.

_**TBC...**_


	10. Chapter 10

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.**

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

**Part Ten**

Amareth and the twins had caught up with the funeral boat, but it had taken time. She thought she might finally be catching her breath a bit as she looked up to watch them bringing it to shore.

Elrohir had launched a guideline to the little craft, and Elladan was pulling it in carefully. Both Elves were suitably grave as befit the solemnity of the situation.

Once the boat was ashore, Amareth rose and made her way unsteadily to join them. She was still shaky, but she knew she had to help. This was on her, the whole situation. Boromir wasn't supposed to have been lost. She had to try to fix it.

The sight of the man in the boat was a shock to her in a lot of ways. First, of course, he was dead, but she'd seen dead men before. But this one, this one was different.

He was big. A bear of a man, easily over six feet and not all of that mass was chain mail. He wasn't pretty, either, but there was something about his face that drew her, a rugged strength that spoke of honor and compassion. That he had been so horribly misled by the Ring only added to the tragic aura he wore. There was nobility there, true nobility such as she'd never seen and for a moment it took her breath away.

She stepped back to allow the twins to get him out of the boat and lay him gently on the shore. She didn't envy them the task; that armor was heavy just looking at it. Then Elladan nodded and they moved back, allowing her to kneel beside the fallen man and place a hand lightly on his brow, smoothing back a lock of golden hair that had fallen across it.

The chill of death washed over her again and she gritted her teeth against it. She could almost _feel_ it drawing strength from her, and she concentrated on that connection with him. She was being drawn to a place within him, a place that seemed so dark, so horribly _wrong_, that it simply had to be the source of whatever had stolen his reason and then his life.

Darkness seemed to grow around her and dimly she understood that she was seeing it with her mind, not her eyes. Light seesawed crazily with the blackness until she saw nothing else, and still the dark grew deeper. Then a point of light grew and she saw it.

The Eye beckoned her, called to her, and she couldn't look away. Soft words she couldn't understand filled her ears as the Eye filled her vision. It hinted at pleasures of the mind and body such as she had never known and she forced herself to remain unmoved, though the temptation to simply stop and listen, stop and watch, was great. Slowly she fed her strength to Boromir and suddenly she heard a snarling howl of fury and the Eye caught her, held her, but still she didn't falter. Then Boromir drew a ragged, halting breath and her own strength failed as his began to grow. Blackness replaced the fire and fury of the Eye and she knew nothing more.

**TBC**


	11. Chapter 11

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.**

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

**Part Eleven**

Elladan caught Amareth as she fell sideways and lowered her gently the rest of the way to the ground. Elrohir put a gentle hand on Boromir's chest as the Man opened his eyes and made as if to rise. "Easy, Man of Gondor," he said quietly. "Rest a moment. You have returned from a great journey and will need to rebuild your strength."

"How?" Boromir's voice was rough, though it cleared quickly. Then his face paled and he made to rise again, making it to a seated position before he had to catch his breath. "The little ones. Uruk-hai took the little ones. Where is Aragorn?"

Elrohir looked over to his brother and received a small nod which eased his mind greatly. He had feared for Amareth as well as the Gondorian when she collapsed. "Aragorn follows the Uruk-hai," he said firmly. "Frodo and Sam have continued their journey alone. The Fellowship is broken, but all is not lost."

Boromir turned slightly to regard Elladan as he covered Amareth with soft greenery. "She sleeps," he said simply and Boromir gave a nod. "And the life of this place will restore her." He indicated the nearly invisible web of light that surrounded her, seemingly holding her to the ground. "It was a great effort."

"How did you come here, how was I healed?" Boromir asked again after he had drunk deeply of the flask Elrohir provided. "My wounds were mortal. There was no mistaking it. How then do I live?" He turned to watch Elladan with the woman and realized several things quickly: first, she was no Elf, she was of the race of Men, just as himself. Had she somehow brought him back from death? Impossible! And yet, the gossamer sheen of the energy surrounding her spoke of things beyond his ken.

"Amareth healed you," Elrohir replied simply as he checked over his brother's handiwork. She would stay warm while she rested and she seemed to have taken no permanent harm from her exertions, but something still teased the back of his mind. "She has a great gift, as you have seen. But she is not invincible; she must rest to regain the strength she passed to you. As you must rest to regain what health she was unable to return to you."

Boromir simply watched her for a moment. He couldn't help assessing her as a threat. He had soldiered far too long to accept anyone at face value, and for a moment he was disgusted with himself for the thought. She had healed him, brought him back from death itself, how then could she be a threat to him? But still, he wondered.

She was slight, almost thin, but strong. He could see her strength in the line of her jaw, the set of her shoulders under the brush. Her skin was the color of honey, her hair true black, not the washed out, faded deep brown of the Haradrim, and he wondered again at their timely arrival. How long had it been? How long had he been out of action? And if she wasn't Haradrim, where had she come from?

"A day's rest will set both of you right," Elladan explained as he set about making a rough camp. The humans would need warmth against the coming night, and there were plans to make. "And allow time to answer the questions I see in your eyes."

Boromir nodded slowly. Yes, there were questions to be asked and answered and he had to make a plan before he could begin to atone for his mistakes. Still, he itched to be on the move, following Aragorn. His faith in the Ranger had been firmly placed after the moment on the slopes of Amon Hen. He had pledged himself to Aragorn's cause, and to that he would hold, even if it meant he must die again. He would _not_ forsake his honor again.

"Tell me what you know, then, and let us begin," he said evenly.

**TBC...**


	12. Chapter 12

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.**

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

Part Twelve

It was two full days before Amareth woke. She had expended so much of her own energy that the twins and Boromir had all fretted over her condition; for the first day she did little more than breathe quite slowly and shallowly. She didn't even move.

The second day was a little better. She murmured in her sleep, tossing restlessly, but not quite waking. Elladan was able to get some broth into her, even in her semi-conscious state, and that seemed to relax her into a complete slumber again.

When she finally opened her eyes, all three visibly relaxed and she sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes and stretching mightily. "How long?" she tried to ask, but her voice was a rough echo of itself. Then she took in the sight of Boromir with the twins and relaxed again, but the rumbling in her stomach kept her upright. "I guess it worked," she said with a wry grin.

Boromir gave her a bow of the head and offered her a piece of lembas from their limited supply. "Indeed," he replied evenly. "Come, we've almost finished our plans." He didn't quite know what to say; she had literally brought him back from death and while he was more than grateful, how did one express that gratitude? He was also ashamed of his actions toward Frodo, though he knew they had been caused by the Ring's dark influence. Nonetheless, his actions had been his own, and he would accept that shame. Still, he didn't know what to say.

Amareth moved a little closer to the fire and sat down between Boromir and Elrohir, taking the offered lembas and chewing slowly. She was still exhausted, but the wafer helped to alleviate that symptom a bit as well. No longer did the chill of death fill her soul, and that was good, too. "I'm glad to see you up and about, Boromir," she said softly. "I wasn't at all sure that it would work. I'm glad it did."

Boromir merely nodded his head and looked to Elladan to bridge the silence. He still wasn't certain how to speak to her, as yet. A simple thank you didn't seem sufficient, and yet to say nothing at all seemed even worse.

Elladan cleared his throat and caught Amareth's eye. "Frodo and Sam move toward Mordor. Aragorn, Legolas, and the Dwarf pursue the Uruk-hai. Saruman will move to strike at Rohan first, in order to bring the fight to Gondor on two fronts. We should go to Edoras and try to warn Theoden-king."

"Agreed," Boromir replied quickly. "Much as I would hurry to Minas Tirith, there are greater needs than mine. The Ring is safely beyond my reach, and Rohan has ever been our ally. Theoden-king would provide us mounts and lend aid to Gondor, did he know our plight."

"Then let's go." Amareth took the skin Elrohir passed her and drank deeply of the clear water. Nothing had ever tasted so good to her and she gave a sigh of bliss before giving it back. "If I'm right, it's barely midday. We can still make some time."

"Are you rested enough to travel?" Boromir asked quickly. She was indeed a formidable woman if she could recover that quickly from what had been, to his knowledge, a heroic effort.

"I'm a Marine," she replied as she checked her boots carefully. "I'll sleep when there's time, and right now there isn't." She shrugged. "I'm ready when you are."

"Then we should head west, to Edoras, as soon as possible." Elrohir's voice was even but there was also a note of concern in it. "Saruman will not expect that move, should he realize that the Fellowship has broken. He will be watching for Rohirrim, not four lone travelers. Gather yourselves and let's be off."

As one, they rose and cleared the little campsite. The fire was carefully doused to prevent fire in the grasslands and then they turned westward toward Edoras. No words were spoken; none were needed. They had a long hike ahead of them and wanted to save their breath for walking.

**TBC…**


	13. Chapter 13

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.**

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

**Part 13**

"One positive point about our heading west," Boromir said evenly as he matched his pace to the twins. Amareth walked at his side, no longer slowed by fatigue but carefully pacing herself nonetheless. "Isengard lies to the northwest, Fangorn to the north. The Uruks would have taken the Hobbits to Isengard, so we should encounter little resistance." The words left a bad taste in his mouth. He had tried, he had tried so hard to protect them and he had failed completely. His last sight of them had been in the arms of those powerful Uruk-hai, tormented and terrified. He had to atone for his mistakes. He had caused Frodo's departure from the Fellowship, he had abandoned Merry and Pippin to torment and probably death by being unable to fight off the Uruks when they came. He had tried, he had _died _in the attempt, and still it hadn't been enough. He wanted to be chasing them, but it was too late. Too much time had passed, they would never be able to catch up to them in time and an outright assault on Isengard was out of the question. So, he marched steadily toward Edoras, hoping to find mounts and aid to reach the White City before Sauron loosed his armies.

Amareth nodded. She could feel the pain of his decision, could see it in the lines of his face, but she said nothing. No words would help his turmoil and she needed her breath to keep up the pace. Whatever else, she was in better shape now than she had ever been before, even as a trained Marine. And it felt better, felt different, too. She was drawing strength from the very earth she trod, and it nourished her better than the _lembas_ of the Elves. She felt combat ready in a way she hadn't for months.

Boromir marveled at the woman. He simply couldn't fathom how she could have brought him back from death, but so she had done. She was formidable to say the least, and yet she seemed no more than human at a glance. Spare of form but strong, easily keeping up with him and the Elves without distress. She had spoken of being a soldier of her own people, and if she were a true representative of her people's military, he would certainly be wary of taking them on. She gave all that was asked of her without complaint or hesitation.

Sounds of battle to their north gave them pause and as one, they turned toward the sound. The crackle of fire and the twang of bowstrings caused them to hurry, but it was the screaming of women and children that spurred them to greater haste. Horses sped past, both mounts and runaways, and Boromir raised his sword with a shout of pure fury. No more innocents would die when he had the power and the strength to protect them!

The Wild Men weren't satisfied with simply harassing these people. Homes burned, some with people still inside and Amareth steeled her heart against the screams. Dead lay all around them and still they came on, ready to meet the quartet and cleave them into death as well. Women and children pelted past, some wounded, others simply too terrified to register the armed travelers in their midst.

Elladan and Elrohir sprang into battle, forcing the Wild Men back from two of the houses where people remained. Their swords blocked the strokes of the Wild Men's knives, shattering the inferior steel and sending the wielders to the ground to beg for mercy.

Boromir threw himself forward, taking on several of the Wild Men himself, thrusting and parrying with what seemed little effort, his shield taking the hits as the attackers defended themselves and forcing them ever backward. His face was set with fury.

Amareth waded in as well, not as accomplished with her sword but using her knife to deadly effect. Many of the Wild Men fell before her blade as she barreled through their ranks. Her rage at the treatment of the victims knew no bounds and she slashed and hacked mercilessly, trying to reach those that could still be saved.

Soon there was no one left to fight. The Wild Men had retreated, fleeing back to their hills to avoid the determined onslaught of the quartet, content to still be alive and wanting to stay that way. Amareth drew in a deep breath and immediately began searching for survivors. Boromir was moving back toward the village, also searching the wounded that lay upon the roadway, looking for those who could be saved.

Elladan and Elrohir remained on a slight ridge overlooking what was left of the little hamlet. They would keep watch until the wounded were tended and they would help with the disposition of the dead. Their biggest concern was that the attackers would return, and to that end, they would be wary.

Amareth healed those she could, but her strength was quickly leaving her. There was a limit to her abilities, it seemed, and she was fast reaching it. Still she pressed on, helping those she could, binding up the wounds she couldn't heal, offering comfort to those who were simply in shock and unable to comprehend why they had been targeted.

The tale was quick to unfold, and chilling in the extreme. One woman, her face drawn with pain and fear, told them that there had been no warning. She had sent her children toward Edoras, armed only with a fast horse and a warning that the Wild Men had stormed the Westfold and were moving that way. It had been her hope, she said, that the children would at least be spared the sight of the carnage they left behind. That they would be spared the fate of those left to fight.

Amareth gave a quick glance to the others. Edoras had been their destination from the start; and now they had even more reason to go there. They had to be certain that the message had been delivered. More importantly, to Amareth's way of thinking, they had to check on the children. Eothain and his sister were young, too young to have had to witness such a devastating attack and undoubtedly were sorely afraid at being all alone on such a desperate mission.

"We need mounts," Boromir stated apologetically. "If there are any to be had, we need them. We'll have to move quickly and while the Elves could do so, Amareth and I are only human." There was a hint of humor in his words.

Theoda didn't smile, but she went behind what was left of her home and returned with an older mare, worn and obviously hard used. "Leoma is old, but she is steady," she explained patiently. "She is the only one of our horses to survive. She will carry you to Edoras and beyond, if that is your wish. She may be rough looking, but she is strong and can carry two easily."

Amareth started to rise but it took more effort than she expected. She had expended a lot of energy in healing; hopefully she'd be able to recover before she was called on again. "I've never ridden without a saddle," she said softly. At least she'd have plenty to hold on to. Boromir was a big man and he had that cloak, too. If she had hold, she wouldn't fall.

The twins nodded to each other and moved to help the others. "We can keep up, but you'll need to ride fast," Elladan explained as Elrohir thanked Theoda for the use of the mare. Boromir was seated first, and although he had practice riding, rode well, he was having a bit of discomfort as well, it seemed. "You won't fall, Amareth, I promise you that," he said grimly. He'd seen the concern in her eyes.

"Hold tightly to him," Elladan whispered as he lifted her up. "He won't let you fall – but there might still be Wild Men or Uruk-hai in the area. Be careful, both of you." He stepped back and bowed low to Theoda, as did Elrohir. "Many thanks, Theoda of the Westfold. _Anar kaluva tielyanna."*_

All four of them turned West then, toward Edoras. They would be moving against time itself now, trying to outrun the attackers. Boromir checked to be certain Amareth was holding on tightly and kicked the horse into a labored run, and the twins ran beside them, all wondering if they would succeed in their mission of warning, or arrive to another scene of carnage and death.

_*The sun shall shine upon your path._

TBC...


	14. Chapter 14

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.**

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

Part 14

Edoras was deserted.

Boromir took a few moments' thought before helping Amareth to slide down and dismounting himself. "Théoden must have moved his people to Helm's Deep," he said slowly as he regarded the silent streets and pathways. "Yet something is off, here. If there were a clear threat looming, surely there would be evidence of it. The Wild Men would be no threat to Edoras. Unless..."

Amareth lowered herself to sit gingerly on a bench outside what appeared to be the main building of the town. Banners flew at the corners of the courtyard, a white horse running on green, and she noted them idly. Silence thickened and grew oppressive, and still the others searched for some form of explanation for the deserted streets.

"The Uruk-hai that attacked us on the slopes of Amon Hen wore the White Hand of Saruman," Boromir mused quietly as he returned to sit next to her. The twins nodded in agreement with his observation, though they said nothing in reply. "He must have been swayed by thoughts of the Ring, as I was. He was attempting to capture it. Frodo had already left the Company, as had Sam; the Ring was therefore beyond his reach. Might he not have intended an assault upon Rohan as the next move? Aragorn would have followed the little ones as far as possible, and that would have taken him across Rohan as well, beyond Fangorn Forest to the Fords of Isen and thence into Isengard, if he were unable to catch the Uruk-hai. He would not have abandoned Merry and Pippin to such a torment."

Elladan rose slowly, his eyes riveted to the doorway of the Golden Hall. "There is something..." His voice trailed off and he moved to enter Meduseld. "Something dark was in this Hall of late," he murmured as he stepped inside. The others immediately rose and went to join him.

Amareth shivered slightly as she went inside. The chill she felt came from within, not without, and she nodded silent agreement with Elladan's statement. The very air felt wrong, and yet there was something positive in the room as well. It wasn't exactly the same as she had felt on Amon Hen, as she had fought back for Boromir's very life.

Elrohir moved further into the room, idly touching a banner here, a tapestry there, obviously trying to gain some insight into the feeling they all shared. "Evil, yet good. Shadow and Light. Something powerful occurred in this room. But what was the outcome?"

"If Théoden survived, or Théodred his son, then the need for a journey to the Deep becomes more clear. Not crystal; something is missing here." Boromir glanced around again, looking through surroundings as familiar to him as his own home. "Rohan and Gondor have ever been allies. Why not send for aid, if the need was so dire?" He shook his head. "We must find answers, and there are none here. We must go to Helm's Deep."

"The children obviously made it this far, if everyone left for Helm's Deep," Amareth added softly. "No sign of attack, yet the place is empty. And it feels – it doesn't feel like death, here. Just – cold." She stepped up onto the dais and moved toward the throne. "Cold, and wrong." Her fingertips brushed the arm of the throne and she shivered. "You said Light and Shadow. There was darkness here, I can feel it, but I can't tell what it is."

"But a threat from the Wild Men would not have sent them to the Deep," Boromir replied again as he rose to pace. "The Wild Men are untrained, undisciplined. Unless..."

"Unless Saruman was using them as his puppets, since the Uruk-hai were on other business," Elladan said clearly as he also began to understand Boromir's thought. "He sent them to harry and destroy, to create havoc, to force the Rohirrim into war. And Théoden refused to rise to the bait."

"A war on two fronts." Boromir was certain, now, what had happened. "Théoden would not have wasted time, had he known Saruman had turned against him. The Fords of Isen would have been the battlefield, and the Westfold a diversion. Théoden is a wise man; he would have withdrawn his people to the Deep for their safety and to give him a chance to form a strategy."

"There are many things we still do not understand," Elrohir said slowly. "But our course is clear. We must go to the Deep."

Amareth didn't sit on the throne; she knew the rules, even when the ruler was absent. But her hands ran idly across the surface of it as she listened to the discussion around her though she didn't really hear. Darkness swam in her vision, see-sawing crazily with Light, but she could make no sense of the display. Yet Elrohir was right; Shadow and Light had clashed here, and the outcome was still unknown.

Elladan struck a listening pose at the doorway. "Many, many booted feet are moving this way," he said softly. The others joined him in the doorway and peered out, to no avail. They needed one of the towers and climbed up.

Amareth caught her breath and Boromir followed suit. The twins simply stared for a moment.

Orcs, stretching back as far as the eye could see. And not just any Orcs. The big, strapping Uruk-hai of the White Hand.

Boromir paled and then reddened with fury. "On their present course, they will be at the Deep by nightfall," he ground out. "Théoden is wise, but even he will not believe the size of this force. He will depend on the fact that the Deep has saved them before, that it has never been breached." A slow shake of his head let the others see his consternation and a fear that he would never admit to. "If anyone could find a chink in the defenses, it would be Saruman, and you can rest assured those Uruks have been told to exploit it."

"Then we must arrive first." Elladan's words were clipped and curt. "There is no other choice. They _must_ be warned."

"The mare won't stand another run," Boromir said as he caught her up and inspected her quickly. He removed her bridle and gave her a slap on the rump. "She has served well and needs rest. And there are no mounts left here."

"It'll be a foot race, then, so we'd best get moving," Amareth said bluntly. "We've got a lead on them, let's not waste it. They're not here yet."

"Agreed." The quartet moved off down the hill, moving fast. Elladan took point, then Boromir, Amareth, and Elrohir came last, watching their backs and there to help if one of the mortals stumbled.

They passed through an area that had clearly been a battlefield and made quick work of searching the dead, who had been left to lie where they had fallen. Boromir's unease deepened at the sight; it was unlike the Rohirrim not to honor their dead. The situation simply continued to worsen and his sense of urgency was mounting. Amareth checked those she could to see if any spark remained, but was sorely disappointed.

His fingers reached for his horn and closed about air and he gritted his teeth at the loss. His bracers were missing as well, but that loss was not as keenly felt as the horn he had carried since he was young.

The Deep was in sight when Amareth stumbled and would have fallen if Elrohir hadn't steadied her. She took several deep, long breaths and nodded that she could go on, but she needed all her breath for the rest of the trip. By the time they reached the gates, she was barely able to move on her own, but she was able to answer when the guards demanded names.

To say there was some consternation among the guards was an understatement. Elves were an uncommon sight in Rohan, and Boromir was known to have fallen at Amon Hen. They were, however, allowed to enter though they were kept to a small, shaded area, under guard, until Théoden could be fetched.

Amareth allowed herself to slide down the wall and sit on the cold stone, drawing strength from it as she had from the very ground outside. It wasn't a premonition, really, it was a fact that she was going to need every ounce of strength she could possibly make to help when the battle was joined.

Théoden appeared before them, his face a study in wonder and concern. "You are most welcome," he began slowly as he regarded first the Elves and then Boromir. Amareth might have criticized the fact that he seemed to be overlooking her if he hadn't appeared completely unnerved by the appearance of these travelers in the midst of preparations for battle. "We received news of your fall, Boromir, how have you come here?"

"A story for another time, Théoden-king," Boromir said quickly as he grasped the man's forearm. "We come with warning, but it seems unnecessary." His keen eyes took in the preparations being made and nodded in agreement with them. "The Uruk-hai will be here in a matter of hours."

"Yes, we had warning," Théoden replied slowly. He still couldn't credit the appearance of the Gondorian in his keep after his supposed death. Had Aragorn lied? No, the man had been unfailingly honest since his arrival. "Your friends are here. I have sent for them."

Gimli had arrived by then, his gruff voice demanding an explanation for the interruption to his preparations. His axe was at his back, the smaller ones at his sides, and the mail he wore was obviously too long for his stature but he wore it well just the same. He blinked.

Amareth rose, keeping the wall at her back, still drawing strength from it though not nearly as much as if she'd been on open soil. The stone was nearly lifeless. She took one step forward to stand next to the twins, still deferring to Boromir as their spokesman. One look at the Dwarf gave her pause; he seemed very, very dangerous just to look at.

A look around her confirmed her suspicions. These men, these warriors, they were more dangerous than anyone she had ever met in her life. She had no place here, really. She couldn't fight like them, she wouldn't be able to hold her own unless it devolved into a knife fight, and if that happened they were most likely lost. Despair crashed down upon her and she shivered.

Boromir let the silence grow for only a moment. "Well met, Gimli, son of Gloin," he said evenly as he offered his hand. "For my part in the breaking of our Fellowship, I beg forgiveness. We have come to help."

"Four swords won't turn the tide, but they're welcome just the same," Gimli replied with a bark of bitter laughter. "Aragorn will be glad of the sight of ye, laddie." He turned to find the Ranger, but horns blowing in the twilight stilled his movements and his eyes glittered for a moment.

The twins locked eyes above Amareth's head and swiftly departed, moving swiftly toward the gates to see rank upon rank of Elven warriors moving inside. Gimli went to join Aragorn and Legolas where they were coming down the steps, and the others followed Théoden to greet them, listening to the mellow tones of Haldir's voice as he greeted the Rohirrim King.

"I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell," he spoke clearly. "An alliance once existed between Elves and Men. Long ago we fought and died together." Haldir's eyes flicked upward and saw Aragorn upon the steps, then returned to Théoden. "We come to honor that allegiance."

Aragorn waited no longer, but came forward quickly to greet the Galadhrim, his voice clear and nearly joyous as he embraced the Marchwarden tightly. Haldir greeted Legolas as well, and turned his attention once more to Théoden. "We are proud to fight alongside Men once more."

His eye found the twins, ranged behind their brother, and nodded briefly. Amareth, also, received a nod of recognition, but Boromir got nothing. The Marchwarden's gaze slid past him as if he weren't there.

Amareth started forward as if to object but Boromir's hand on her arm halted her. "It doesn't matter," he said softly. He and the Elf had not spoken at all in Lothlorien, and only Aragorn's presence had kept him from throwing his natural arrogance around. He had been uncomfortable in the extreme while there, uneasy about Galadriel's ability to see into his mind. "I have much to atone for. He knows that. It doesn't matter."

Amareth subsided but she was still angry on his behalf at the slight. Then her eyes met Haldir's once more and time seemed to slow, then stop.

Something touched her spirit, her will. Then abruptly she was back in real time and Boromir had her by the arm, speaking to her. She shook herself quickly. "Sorry, what?"

"Aragorn wants you to remain in the keep with the Healers," he said softly as he guided her there. "He feels you can be best utilized there, for now." He regarded her steadily for a moment. "Are you all right?"

"I will be. Nerves." He should understand that. As warriors, they weren't fearless; they just concealed and ignored that fear a little better than others did. "You'd better get where you need to be. It won't be much longer." She could feel it building; and a peal of thunder shook the keep. Boromir took his leave and she regarded the other healers. "We'd better start getting stuff together. This is going to get ugly."

_**TBC…**_


	15. Chapter 15

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.**

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

Part 15

The noise was immense, Amareth thought irreverently, and then stifled the thought before it could grow. Close in combat she wasn't used to, and this was definitely going to be close. And there were literally thousands of those things out there, trying to destroy the people of Rohan.

Well, she'd have something to say about that if she could.

An explosion rocked the Keep and she braced herself against it. Explosion? There were no bombs here! What had happened? She could hear confusion outside, which rallied quickly into order again. Wounded had already been streaming into the Keep, and she had been busy, but now there were orders, bracing the gates, and the Uruk-hai were obviously trying desperately to break them. She forced herself to concentrate on the wounded until she was only an automaton, bandaging, stitching, and otherwise ignoring the mayhem and carnage in the outer halls. The order to return to the Keep was heard dimly through the haze, and then pain speared through her. Agony tore her concentration away and all she could feel was the burn along nerve endings raw from the pains she had already sought to ease. A scream left her throat and all she could think about was getting outside. Not from fear; but from some other emotion she couldn't identify. Then it passed and a chill surrounded her, the same chill as she had felt on the slopes of the mountain before she had found Boromir. She rose from where she had fallen, hardening her heart against the chill, and tried not to imagine what it might mean. Had Boromir fallen again? Was she connected to him in some fashion?

Then she was again needed. Théoden had been wounded at the gate, his sword arm struck by the rampaging Uruk-hai. There was no time for bandaging any longer. He would need the arm, and quickly. The enemy was almost inside the gate.

He had been taken to his rooms and was still shouting orders, raging at the enemy until Amareth laid hands on the wound and poured herself into the healing. He would need the arm. She was no good with a sword, but it was looking like she'd have to join in the fighting soon. The cry had gone up that the castle was breached, to fall back, to retreat, but there was nowhere left to go.

Theoden's words were chilling as his men and Aragorn's attempted to brace the doors to the King's quarters. "The fortress is taken! It is over."

"You said this fortress would never fall while your men defend it!" Aragorn raged in return. "They still defend it, they have _died _defending it!"

The rest was lost on her as again the chill of death swept over her. She had to find the source of that chill, she had to, she had to do something about it. It was wrong, just as Boromir's death had been wrong. The chill was not meant to be there, but there were so many dead, how was she to find just one among them? And against the Uruk-hai as well? Desperation and despair filled her and she almost couldn't move.

A desperate, final ride was being planned, but she couldn't leave. Not with this cold, dark sensation left upon her. Gimli had gone to sound the Horn, and she would find him. At least she wouldn't be alone when the end came.

That horn was immense. That the Dwarf had enough breath to wind it was impressive, to her, but she noticed it only remotely. She could barely move from the death she felt all around her, and the one that pushed so insistently at that sense she had so recently discovered.

Another voice sounded in the dawn, ringing clear against the sound of battle. Renewed sword strokes were heard and she took a deep breath. Gimli was running out of the keep at the sound, his axe raised in defiance, and she followed, a bit more slowly. The sight that met her eyes was astonishing, but again, it was a remote emotion, as though not really hers. It had been buffered by death.

She had seen combat. She had seen death. But never on this scale, never so intense, and she had never so keenly felt the death of one man among others. The Uruk-hai had began to withdraw, running for their lives against the onslaught of fresh troops, mounted Rohirrim who slew them indiscriminately. Others were beginning to search the dead, piling the enemy in one place and handling their own with reverence and sorrow.

She began to help them. Perhaps some were only wounded, though she doubted it. The enemy had been too interested in wiping out those inside the walls.

She had made her cautious way to the wall when she saw him. Golden hair lay against stone and golden armor, tarnished by black blood and red, lay too still on the limp form. A shrill, harsh cry left her and she flew forward the few feet that separated them, gathering the fallen Galadhrim to her, keening in a way she'd never heard, much less understood. A part of her was missing, a part she'd never listened to, never opened herself up to, and she keenly felt the break as her heart shattered.

The feel of death doubled, tripled, became so intense she couldn't stand it. She'd brought Boromir back, could she do the same here? The other bodies, no spark had remained, but there was something here, some bright bit that said to her that he wasn't completely gone.

She couldn't understand the desperation that gripped her, the _need _to right this wrong, to bring back what was dead. She hadn't even felt this when she brought Boromir back.

Her hands went swiftly to him, one upon his heart, one on his brow, and he still rested mostly in her lap. Surely she could do this! She had for Boromir, she _must_ for Haldir!

**TBC…**


	16. Chapter 16

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.**

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

Part Sixteen

The searchers found them there, on the wall. Neither of them stirred, nor woke when touched, but both breathed, slowly and evenly. Amareth's pallor was remarked on, then dismissed as part of the healing process. Aragorn knew it had been a feat of great healing, which would take a great deal of strength. The fact that Haldir had been _dead,_ not merely wounded gravely, was not lost on him.

She had brought another friend back from the very grave. For that, she had his gratitude and his friendship.

When others made to raise them and move them inside, he stopped them. There was a thin sheen of energy surrounding them them both, barely seen in the dawn light, but he knew from what his brothers had told him that it mustn't be disturbed. And it might not yet prove enough. There was no life in the cold stone for her to draw from.

He sent a Rider to find Gandalf and bring him, as well as Theoden. They would need to see this as well, and there was still the matter of Boromir's return to discuss with the Wizard. Aragorn thought that if Amareth had been sent by the Shadow, even indirectly, that Gandalf would know and be able to counter it. He had no more doubts, but he would still be certain.

He hadn't long to wait. Theoden gave the two a single glance, his features touched with concern. The girl had helped him, had healed his arm with but a touch, and he was quite simply in awe of her. That she had brought Boromir and now it seemed Haldir back from death itself, that put her firmly on the same level as the White Wizard and he would treat her accordingly.

Gandalf nodded slowly as he came up to the wall. The girl was a surprise, to be certain. He'd had no warning of her arrival, had no idea who she was but he felt no evil from her. "Yes, we should leave them to heal," he said quietly. "I feel no evil from her, no sense of harm," he continued in the same vein. "And yet her power is phenomenal. For healing, she is a tremendous asset."

"Indeed. Gandalf," Aragorn began softly as he drew the wizard aside. "You know what befell Boromir. Haldir died in my very arms." He was determined to make his friend see what he had seen, the sheer power of the woman's gift. "I was more than convinced of Boromir's death as well. That she could have countered death itself speaks of things beyond mortal thought."

"Indeed." Gandalf considered. "We cannot hope to keep her existence a secret, nor should we try," he replied evenly. "But should word get back to Sauron, it could speed his assault. No matter that she cannot affect every death," and he gestured to the dead still being counted and laid to rest. "That she has affected even two will be a sore blow to him. He may well try to destroy her as well."

"We cannot stay," Aragorn countered as Theoden looked on. "We must confront Saruman and learn his plans."

"No, we cannot stay." Gandalf's voice was heavy. "Choose a guard for them, and we will be on our way. Saruman must be confronted.

"I will stay," Boromir said as he stepped forward. "I owe her a debt that cannot be repaid. I owe her my life, and it is only fitting that I defend her with it."

Four other riders were chosen to remain, as well as the twins, and provisions were hastily assembled. They would all return to Edoras when the two sleepers awakened.

**TBC...**


	17. Chapter 17

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.**

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

Part Seventeen

Amareth swam back to wakefulness slowly and painfully. Her legs cramped where she had been apparently sitting on them for a while and there was a heavy weight on her lower half that for a moment she couldn't remember putting there. Then memory flooded back and she took a ragged gasp. Had she succeeded?

Haldir breathed, he lived! She didn't understand what drove her to be so obsessed with him, but she would continue as she had begun. One hand wearily found his breast, the other his forehead, and though she was painfully stiff and sore, poured energy toward his healing once more.

"No, Amareth, rest and eat something, first," Boromir's voice came to her as one of his large hands touched hers where it touched the Elf. "You do him a disservice if you should die attempting to revive him." He had seen the desperate, heart-wrenching way she clung to Haldir's limp form, had heard from Gimli of her keening cry of loss and heartache. "Do not over reach your own strength."

She shook her head as someone placed a bowl of something or other into her hands and made as if to put it down, but she wasn't allowed to. Elladan stepped into her sight and she realized then just how utterly and completely weary she was. She took a bite of the stew and then another, and then clamped her teeth shut over a cry of sheer agony as her cramped legs made her forcefully aware of them once more. But if she moved, would it break the fragile bond between her and the Elf? She had to try anyway.

"You've healed for two days, Amareth, rest easy," Elrohir spoke from behind her. "I have you. Slowly, and we'll get you up." He suited actions to words and held her firmly when she would have fallen and firmer still when she would have returned to Haldir's side. "He lives, Amareth," he said softly. "He lives, thanks to you. Rest before you harm yourself in your attempt to continue."

She allowed herself to be led a short distance away, then, but kept Haldir within her sight, and gratefully accepted their words and actions. Her own gift had told her the same, that he lived, but it hadn't been enough to still her desperation. A thin shield of energy still surrounded him, and she frowned wearily, not yet able to make sense of it. A few short steps, and she felt as though she'd run from Lorien again. She was limp as a noodle.

The Riders kept back, in awe of her abilities and not a little afraid. The twins and Boromir, however, stayed with her and made sure she ate and drank, hoping to counter some of the bone deep weariness they saw in her. She was thin, nearly to the point of gauntness, and her eyes were wide and shadowed. She would need time before she attempted more healing or she might do herself an injury.

"Outside," she said raggedly once the stew was eaten. "I need to be outside. Bring him, too." She didn't stop to think that she was throwing orders around; they either would or wouldn't follow them. She had to get out of this wretched stone, she needed green around her.

They helped her and the Riders reverently brought Haldir, lying him on the soft grass of the verge as Amareth sank down, burying her fingers in the soft loam and breathing in deeply as she felt life returning to her. The cold stone had kept them alive, but this, this was heaven to her. She could feel her strength returning.

Boromir and the twins watched impassively, but inwardly heartened. Amareth would have need of all her strength, there was no doubt. Perhaps she would bring others from the brink, or perhaps only heal what hurts she could, but there was war coming and she would need what strength she could muster for it. And they watched as the earth healed her, made her whole once more. Then they watched as she stood and returned to Haldir's side.

One hand on his brow, one on his breast, and none made a move to stop her this time. This time, she appeared hale and healthy and was returning the same hue to the Elf's features as well. Finally he took a deep, sighing breath, and then opened his eyes.

Amareth could have wept. "Welcome back," she said softly. Such inane words for the situation, but it was all she could think of. She felt unaccountably shy, now, and had no idea why. "Rest a bit. You're undoubtedly still weak."

"Hannon lle," Haldir returned, his voice soft. "How – how is this possible?" He felt strange, not uncomfortable, but strange still. She had brought him back from death. Her power was overwhelming, and yet she remained untouched by it. A puzzle in Men's clothing. Perhaps he had misjudged the humans. She seemed utterly uninterested in the power she wielded, save to help others. A truly noble soul.

"If I knew, I'd tell you," she answered honestly. She felt rather than saw the others drawing away, allowing her some time with the Elf. "I don't know how I do it. I just know I can. Sometimes." Her face clouded with the knowledge that she had been unable to save the Riders who had fallen defending the keep. Or even those who had fallen first. "You, and Boromir, you two were the only ones I could bring back. Others, I can heal, but not – not resurrection. And I couldn't stop myself with you." A small blush suffused her cheeks. "It didn't – didn't feel right. I couldn't let you die."

"Then I am grateful," he responded as he sat up carefully. "But others will have need of this gift." He couldn't quite gain his feet, though, and sat back with a small grunt of dissatisfaction. "We cannot tarry here. And yet it seems we must do so for a time, to regain our strength." It wasn't lost on him how much it would have taken for her to perform such a feat of healing, but the time it would take to recover gnawed at him. He longed to rejoin the fight, now. The Uruk-hai had taken too many of his brothers into death; he wanted vengeance for them.

"We have horses to carry us, Haldir," Elladan spoke quietly into the ensuing silence. He knew what the Galadhrim was feeling, had felt it himself, and hoped he wouldn't lose sight of his heritage from it. To see Haldir fall into Shadow after such a journey, it would be devastating to them all. And not the least to Amareth.

She had watched over the fallen Marchwarden, had defended him and healed him to the detriment of her own health; it spoke to him of more than simple healing, but he would say nothing. He still could be wrong.

"Then we had best be away," Boromir said evenly. "Even now, war is growing. If we wish to help, we must be there to fight."

Amareth nodded, as did Haldir. "Then let's go," she said simply. She stayed by Haldir's side, however, to aid him if he still needed it, though aboard a horse he surely wouldn't. But something told her to remain near him and she'd listen. Listening to that little voice had become second nature to her.

The Riders brought their mounts and as one, they moved from the Gates of the Deep out into the sun. It would be a short ride, but still they must be wary; the Wargs might still be nearby and they couldn't afford any more loss, to battle or of time.

Amareth rode carefully. She had little experience with horses, still, and she was hoping for a seat that didn't move by the time Edoras was in sight. She reined in when Haldir did so, still feeling connected to him but unsure why. She didn't have this feeling with Boromir.

"We must talk, you and I, once there is time," Haldir said simply and without preamble. "There are many layers of difficulty to overcome. There must be a reckoning for my brothers; and you and I must come to an understanding, of sorts."

Amareth nodded but she didn't quite comprehend what he was saying. Her rump was feeling abused and her mind was on the coming battles; would she be enough? Then what he was saying penetrated and she gave him a sharp look. "Understanding?" she asked softly as she faced him squarely. Surely he didn't mean what she thought.

"You feel it too," he replied quietly. His eyes strayed to the others, who had also halted to wait for them but far enough away to be discreet. "This bond between us is strong, too strong for simply having healed me."

She nodded again, suddenly uncertain of everything. He was bloody attractive, all right, and his voice was soft, kind, and full of something she'd never heard directed at _her. _Other women, yes, but not at her. It had her flustered and that was a bad place for her mind to be right now. And the hell of it was, he was right. She felt no such connection to Boromir and she had felt the first stirrings of this before the battle had commenced. She hadn't forgotten the touch on her spirit in the courtyard.

"We will speak of this more when time is not in such short supply," he said suddenly as he moved his mount forward again. He kept to a walk, however, for which Amareth was extremely grateful. Edoras was within sight; surely they were safe enough now to avoid the headlong plunge they'd been running.

"I've never believed in love at first sight," Amareth growled as she kept beside him. "So yes, we'll talk." No, not love. Lust, maybe, because he _was _handsome and fit. But love? How had that happened, if it really had? This place was rapidly making her a little crazy and then she sighed. She wasn't getting out of here anytime soon and she had work to do. She had to get hold of herself until it was over. "Sorry. I don't mean to be a shrew."

"It is unsettling, at that," he replied as they made their careful way through the gates and up toward the Golden Hall. "Something I certainly didn't expect. Not from a mortal."

Amareth pulled up sharply at the top of the hill and let the stableboys take her horse as she slid gratefully to the ground. "A mortal. I'd better not hear the word 'mere' anywhere near that description, Haldir," she growled as she made her way past him. She couldn't explain her anger any more than she could the undeniable attraction she felt. "Or I might just hurt you."

He raised a hand as they were ushered toward Meduseld. "Never. You would never be a 'mere' anything, Amareth, and I apologize for giving offense." Then there was no more time for talk as they entered the Hall and found battle preparations already under way. Théoden and Aragorn were deep into planning and Boromir, Haldir, and the twins went to help. Amareth simply found the first seat she could and rested gingerly on it, thankful for the cessation of motion.

These people were horsemen, she reminded herself sternly. They thought of their horses before themselves, and she'd better get used to it. She couldn't always be riding behind someone else; it would slow things down. But as long as she could, she'd avoid getting on another one. Maybe there'd be a wagon she could ride in. She snorted at her own whimsy.

A little man came barreling through the crowd and launched himself at Boromir, clinging to the big Man like a lifeline, and Amareth guess that he must be one of the hobbits he'd been defending when he died. She saw him lift the hobbit high into the air, saw his smile, and had a moment's peace. Surely that simple good feeling would help them through this!

"We will leave for Dunharrow with the dawn," came a voice near her ear and she started slightly. "Come, you must be famished. Then you can rest one more night in comfort."

The woman was beautiful, but cold and unyielding, Amareth thought, and her words carried a brittle sound that disturbed her deeply. Yet she followed where she was bidden and ate the stew that was placed before her, and then went into the room she was escorted to. It looked like heaven from where she was standing. A four poster bed, deep feather mattress, it looked like sheer decadence and she let herself fall into it gratefully. It wasn't long before she was sound asleep.

**TBC…**


	18. Chapter 18

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.**

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

Part Eighteen

Amareth was grateful for the smith's wagon by the time they reached Dunharrow. If she'd had to be on a horse that long, she thought she might have died.

Haldir had remained close to her when he could, alternating between his right at the fore of the column and dropping back to stay nearby. And still they hadn't spoken of the connection between them.

She knew why. They were at war and this was a war muster. There wasn't time. But she desperately wanted to know what it meant, for both of them. If it was what she thought, then she'd gone and gotten herself into a fix. Stress relief was one thing, but this – it was so far beyond what she knew that it frightened her, and she thought she was fearless. And still she wasn't sure exactly what it was.

She let him bring her up behind him as they continued to move through the camp until they reached the base of the mountain. Some of the men had spoken to Théoden along the way, giving numbers, and the thought that none had come from Snowbourne seemed to disturb them all greatly but she wasn't sure why. Then they reined in while Théoden and his men continued up the mountain and she slid down, waiting only until Haldir joined her and drew her aside.

"Plans must be made, of course, and I must help with that, but there are a few moments we can speak together if you will," he said simply. "This feeling, this – bond, if you will. It is something I had never expected to feel."

Well, trust him to get right to the point, Amareth thought irreverently. "Then you want to enlighten me?" she asked quietly, watching around them for interruptions. It didn't seem there were going to be any; the Rohirrim seemed to be either in awe of or afraid of her companion. They weren't of Legolas, but Haldir was a different sort completely, apparently. The long and short of it was that the Rohirrim were giving them a wide berth, almost as wide as the one they gave the foot of the mountain. "I don't understand it at all. At least you seem to know what it is."

"It is something that only happens when an Elf finds his lifemate," he said simply. He raised one hand as if to touch her face and withdrew it just as quickly. It was as though he were afraid to touch her and she was concerned. "It doesn't usually happen between races. Elves are immortal, and you are not. To have such a bond – it is unsettling to say the least." He looked in her face directly and moved back a bit. "I've frightened you."

"I'm not afraid," Amareth returned easily. "At least, not of you." That much was at least true. She couldn't explain it but she'd trusted him from the first moment she saw him. "But this – it's so far outside my experience that it's got me pretty shook up." She shook her head at his confusion. "I'm confused, off-balance. Not something I'm used to." No, of course not. She was a Marine. One of the guys. To have someone interested in her, Elf or not, was way outside her norm.

"No, I can see that. You are by far one of the most self-assured humans I have ever encountered." He moved to sit on the ground, gesturing for her to join him, next to him if she liked or at least close by. She settled next to him and he carefully kept himself still. For all her brave words, she was still uncomfortable and he wouldn't press the issue. He watched as the Riders stayed clear of the foot of the mountain as well as them. He could feel the presences in the stone, but he said nothing. He watched as Aragorn stared into the cleft, still silent, enjoying the companionship of this most interesting human woman. Then Gimli broke the spell that seemed to hold the Dunedain and Haldir turned his attention back to his companion. "They will take the Paths of the Dead," he murmured. A cold finger of dread touched him and was quickly dispelled.

"What?" Amareth felt a chill at the words, but said nothing about it. Something big was about to happen. She could feel it, and she was sure she wasn't the only one. Haldir seemed troubled as well, and it was no longer about their bond. Something else was upsetting him.

"The Door under the Mountain," Haldir explained quietly. "There dwell the Oathbreakers, the deserters that Isildur cursed. A veritable army of the Dead." His arm slipped around her and she moved a little closer. "None but the true King of Gondor may command them, and they do not suffer the living to pass."

Amareth felt cold. Was that it, was she feeling the death in the mountain? Probably. "Then why would Aragorn take that road? I thought we were riding for Gondor." She snuggled deeper into his embrace without thinking, comforted by the touch.

"We are. But this – I believe he is meant to take that road." Haldir gave a small start of surprise as he recognized a late arrival, riding toward the King's pavilion on the cliff side. He said nothing. Elrond being here, there was a reason, and his dread increased. Yes, Aragorn would take the Paths of the Dead. There could be no other explanation for the The Elf Lord's presence. "Come, it is getting dark, we should eat and rest. You will need your strength once the battle is joined." Unspoken was his fear that she would fall. She knew next to nothing of the sword and the fighting would be intense. He wished that she would stay back with the wagons, but he knew he couldn't ask her to do so. It wasn't in her nature to remain safely away while others risked everything. She would be in the thick of it, where she belonged.

Amareth simply let him hold her. She didn't know what he was thinking, only that he was, some deep thought that held him in thrall. The feel of his arm around her was comforting and she stopped trying to think about words for it, content to let him hold her and just relax for a few minutes. Things would get rough again before too long and she was learning to cherish moments like these, when there was time to relax.

She had led a hard life, back in her world, but it was nothing compared to what these people faced on a daily basis. Yes, there was danger, but it was more remote, more easily defended against, than it was here. Here, war was up close and personal, not as dispassionate as it had been for her. You _saw_ what was trying to kill you, it didn't shoot you from stealth without warning. Even the archers, yes, they sniped, but it was never done simply for hatred's sake. Or not completely, anyway.

Her hand rested lightly against his chest and she pillowed her head on his arm. It was something she had never experienced, this feeling of closeness, and she treasured it all the more for that.

Her mind wandered a bit and she let it have free rein, knowing it might be the last time she'd have the luxury for a long time. This bond between them, it was strong, she could feel it even at rest. He was certainly attractive, and to have this connection with him, she thought it might be what her mother had always described to her but she never expected to experience. It was like something out of a romance novel, she thought whimsically, but that didn't make it any less valid. Her utter devastation when he died, her desperate acts to save him – those concerned her, but on a rather remote level. It seemed to her that it was meant, just like it was meant for her to save Boromir.

But what was she to do in this grand battle? She couldn't wield a sword, not well enough to keep her alive for very long. Glorfindel's training notwithstanding, she just wasn't good enough. She couldn't shoot a bow with any accuracy. She was good with a knife, but there were going to be far too many enemies for one simple dagger to handle. The only thing she had to offer was her healing and that would come after. Yet she was afraid she would be left behind, just the same. She needed to be there, _needed _it on a fundamental level.

A soft sigh left her and then her attention was captured by the tableau near Éowyn's tent. The Hobbit Merry had just left, headed in the direction of the smithy, and Éowyn was facing off with her brother Éomer. There was a short discussion and Éomer's voice rose slightly, the words no less sharp for the calm delivery.

"You know as little of war as that Hobbit. When the fear takes him, and the blood and the screams and the horror of battle take hold, do you think he would stand and fight? He would flee. And he would be right to do so. War is the province of Men, Éowyn."

Amareth shivered and felt Haldir's arm tighten reassuringly around her. She could see his point; the Hobbit seemed far too innocent for the ways of war. But to declare it the province of men, that was wrong to her as well. Every hand would be needed, in the end, she felt that clearly.

She felt Haldir's arm tighten again and then he removed it and she looked up at him. "Come, you need to eat and rest. Dawn will come early."

She rose and went with him, eating of the stew and then following him to a quiet area near the other Riders but not so near they'd be stepping on each other. She knew he was right, they would need rest, and she drew him down with her to the thick grass. "Stay with me, please," she said softly.

He arranged himself next to her, holding her lightly. She would easily be able to break free if she wished. "You rest," he murmured as he gathered her in closer. "I will guard your dreams. And with the morning, we will ride for Gondor – and war."

**TBC...**


	19. Chapter 19

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.**

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

**Chapter Nineteen**

Amareth roused suddenly, uncertain of what had awakened her but every nerve vibrating with tension. Haldir was still holding her loosely but his attention was turned toward the path and she followed his gaze. The tableau was chilling.

Gamling faced Théoden squarely, obviously disturbed. Amareth could hear others demanding an explanation, demanding to know why Aragorn was leaving them, deserting them to their fate. Gamling put voice to all their fears. "He leaves because there is no hope," he spoke quietly.

"He leaves because he must." Théoden's voice was firm.

Gamling wasn't having it. "Too few have come. We cannot defeat the armies of Mordor."

Théoden took a deep breath and faced his men squarely. Amareth watched as he visibly gathered himself to answer. "No. We cannot. But we will meet them in battle nonetheless."

She watched as the Riders took no comfort from his words and yet still began to make ready. They would follow their King into Hell itself, she thought idly as she relaxed against Haldir once more. This war had touched so many already... and it really was only just beginning. There had been battles, but she was suddenly certain they would be considered insignificant against what they would be riding into. The epiphany made her shake a little.

Haldir tightened his grasp slightly. He understood what she was feeling, even without words. Men had surprised him greatly over the last few weeks, and few more so than Amareth. Yes, they could be horrible, but many of them were noble of spirit even in their unkempt, ill-kept guises. That these Men would walk willingly into oblivion rather than accept their fates, it humbled him. Elves were noble, they protected the lesser races, but he was starting to realize that Men had hearts and spirits equal to them, on occasion. Perhaps he had been mistaken to generalize them. They were not all of a piece.

Activity burst about them and they rose, turning as one to find Haldir's mount. There would be no harness on the animal, as Haldir rode without in Elvish custom, but still the stallion must be made ready. Haldir spoke softly to him, caressing his muzzle, explaining what they were riding into, asking for his help.

Amareth watched as everyone made ready. She would ride with Haldir; the stallion was well able to carry them both, with the help of Elvish encouragement and lack of harness, and yet there were still three days to the Pelennor Fields. She watched as Théoden spoke with Merry, and the latter was left standing bereft and alone until one of the passing Riders scooped him up. Then she turned to find Haldir holding his arm down for her to grasp. She let him bring her up and wrapped her arms around him, knowing she didn't have the skill to stay aboard otherwise. Her weapons, such as they were, rested on her back and she offered a heartfelt prayer for protection.

The ride was brutal, and swift, but it seemed it wouldn't be fast enough. On one of their brief rests, they listened while Éomer detailed the battle already raging at Minas Tirith. The decision was made to ride through the night and Amareth shivered as she mounted behind Haldir again.

She was able to rest slightly on the headlong plunge, but only because she trusted Haldir so implicitly. The horse wouldn't allow her to fall any more than he would, so she felt safe enough to drowse. And then it was dawn.

The view before them was horrifying. Everywhere, there was the enemy. Fires raged unchecked in the city and still, battalions of the enemy advanced.

Théoden didn't hesitate. He rode before them, rallying his men, promising glory. "A sword day, a red day, Ere the sun rises!" He called for death to the enemy, a call that was quickly returned from the six thousand Riders who had flocked to his banner. And then it was time.

Amareth took a deep breath as Haldir urged the horse forward with the rest. They would spearhead into the enemy's flank, hopefully drawing attention away from the city and the last hope of Men. Minas Tirith had to survive! Then they were in the middle of the fray and she dropped and rolled, coming up with not only her dagger but a long knife she liberated from the first Orc she encountered. Martial arts served her well as she forced herself to use the blades as extensions of her own body; it was the only thing that saved her.

Haldir stayed near her, as near as he could, having loosed his mount to run free once the initial charge had been made. The two cleaved a wide path into the Orcs, but the enemy seemed endless and they were both tiring quickly when the mûmakil appeared.

Amareth was rooted to the ground with shock. Never had she seen anything so big; the elephants in the zoos of her home were NOTHING compared to these monsters. Each was easily able to carry many, many men in the war towers on their backs and she simply stared, unable to accept what her eyes were telling her. Then battle was joined once more and she continued to hack and slash at anything that came her way.

A chill descended on her and she shivered as she looked around, searching for the source. It intensified, moving from merely uncomfortable to nearly agonizing and she cried out, feeling her strength fail her and landing hard on the ground, shaking. She couldn't stop feeling it, that cold, the feeling of death nearby. Yet it was different – it wasn't as if someone had died who shouldn't have. It was too powerful by far for it to be only one spirit.

Haldir slid to kneel next to her and took her in his arms, desperately seeking the cause of her collapse. She was shivering uncontrollably and he held her close, trying to share some of his warmth with her. Words fell from his lips, soft Elvish reassurances, and still he saw no reason for her to have fallen.

Then came the Dead.

They poured across the battlefield, bringing destruction with them and rapidly overwhelming the forces of Mordor. Amareth screamed in agony when they came near, and then subsided into ragged sobs when they passed by without incident. As they moved on, her shivering lessened, but it didn't stop. Still, tears streamed down her face and she was unable to rise. The cold of their passage seemed to eat at her very spirit and she didn't think she would ever be warm again.

Haldir simply held her, offering his reassurances, keeping a wary eye out for danger. The sounds of battle were fading into the distance and he relaxed slightly. As the Dead moved away, she improved; therefore, when Aragorn released them as he would surely do, she would recover completely. Or at least, that was his hope.

She clung to him, seeking refuge from the pain and the cold. She was oblivious to the few physical hurts she had sustained; the mail she had been provided had stopped most of the damage and she was merely bruised, and her hands suffered from scraping and a few small cuts, but in all, it was her spirit that had taken the most damage. Having Haldir hold her so tightly and yet so gently was balm to her wounded spirit and she was soaking it in as fast as she could.

Haldir was content to hold her. The fighting seemed to be all but over, now. There were still some of the Rohirrim riding down stragglers, and the occasional sound of swordplay came to them, but for now, it seemed they were fairly safe. Gently, he smoothed the hair from her forehead where it had escaped the neat braid she wore. She seemed to have fallen into a light sleep, though it was troubled; soft sounds of distress came from her at irregular intervals.

He saw Legolas nearby and nodded when the Elf saw them. Gently he gathered Amareth more tightly to him and rose, intending to go into the City with the other wounded. Others moved among the dead, seeking those that yet drew breath, and he closed his eyes for a moment at the sheer number of the slain. Then a howl of pure anguish spit the air and he turned to see Éomer gathering his sister to him, despair and denial all over his face.

Amareth might be able to help her, or she might not. There seemed to be a limit on her powers of resurrection; she hadn't been able to bring everyone back at Helm's Deep. Only him. And Boromir, of course. But if Éowyn wasn't dead – but no, that scream had been pure horror. Besides, Amareth hadn't awakened.

How had Éowyn come to be on the field? Théoden had bidden her back to Edoras, to defend the Golden Hall in the event of their failure here.

It was a puzzle but he wouldn't find the answers here, on the Fields. Carefully he carried his burden to one of the wagons collecting the living and laid her gently on the hard surface. Nothing would be answered nor anything decided until she woke. He touched her cheek lightly and then turned to help the searchers. She would be safe enough in the city, with the healers. His duty was here, and she would understand that. With one final glance, as though burning her face into his memory, he turned to do what he could to help separate the living from the dead.

TBC...


	20. Chapter 20

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.**

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

**Chapter Twenty**

Amareth woke slowly. The bed she rested in was comfortable, soft and warm, and she really didn't want to leave it to face the day. Then a little more consciousness filtered through and she sat up quickly. Where was Haldir?

He wasn't in the room with her but she could sense his presence and relaxed slightly. There was no chill when she thought of him, so he was still alive. Right now she needed to find out where she was. The last thing she remembered was the fury of the Dead pouring across the battlefield. The pain they had brought with them, the agony she had felt, it had apparently just knocked her into a stupor and she was only just recovering. Okay, well, that was all well and good but she needed to find Haldir. Or find something to do. Or both.

She had just set her feet on the floor when she heard someone outside her door. The noise was slight, as though they didn't want to disturb her, and she called out quickly. "It's okay, I'm awake. Come in."

"Yes, you look much better," Haldir said easily as he came to sit beside her. "How do you feel?" He took her hand in his and the simple touch meant volumes to her. He was alive, he was safe – was that a bandage showing under his sleeve?

"I feel okay. Bruised, battered, and aching in places I didn't remember I had, but okay." She tightened her fingers on his for a moment. Yes, that was a bandage peeking out. "How badly are you hurt?"

"A scratch." He shifted slightly to catch her eye. "Truth. A scratch, nothing more." He watched her carefully for a moment before speaking again. "This is but the calm before the storm," he said softly. "If the Ring is not destroyed, then our victory on this field means nothing. Frodo must succeed in his Quest."

"I know." It had been impressed on her at Rivendell just how important the Quest was. And this gathering of forces, the mighty battles – all of them were but backdrops to the most important element: Frodo's journey into Mordor. "Does anyone know if he's still alive? Surely if Sauron had the Ring we'd all be dead." She shifted closer to him and he slid an arm around her for the comfort she seemed to be seeking.

"Yes, that is a rational assumption." Haldir simply held her close. "There will be a council of sorts this afternoon. I have been summoned, and you as well. We will discuss the possibility, however remote, that we might still be able to aid Frodo in his quest." He tipped her face upward to his for a moment. "Before then, perhaps you and I should speak of our bond. If this is something you do not wish -"

"I never said that." Amareth pulled back slightly to get a better look at him. She met his eyes for several long minutes before closing hers with a sigh of resignation. This needed to be straightened out, she knew it, she'd just thought she'd have more time before getting into it. "I'm just... it bothers me, okay?" Her voice was small and she got up, unhindered, to pace to the window and stare out at the wreckage of the Pelennor Fields. Haldir remained on the bed, but she could feel his eyes on her, feel his confusion, his concern for her. "I've never – this kind of thing doesn't happen in my world. There's no magic. No 'bonds,' no healing like I've done here. Everything about this place is foreign to me and I – I'm confused. I've been confused since day one, when I woke up in Rivendell. It hasn't stopped yet. The only reason I'm not lying in a bed somewhere completely unresponsive is that I won't let myself. I'm just – I'm not sure of what I've become."

She felt him move nearer but he didn't touch her. She rested her head on the smooth stone of the window facing and didn't turn. Her gaze never left the fields, where pyres still burned and men still moved about, separating the Enemy dead from their own. "I have never been able to heal like I've done here," she continued a few moments later. "I used the ways I'd been taught, medicines and surgery. The kind of healing I've done here was scoffed at in my world, called fraud, mostly because it didn't happen. If you saw it, then you saw an elaborate charade staged usually to separate the ignorant from their money. And resurrection – Haldir, that's supposed to be impossible for anyone but God himself."

He waited, saying nothing. She could feel his steady presence at her back, feel his acceptance of her, and it soothed her somewhat.

"In my world, I knew who and what I was. I was a doctor and a soldier, and not always in that order. I healed the hurt with medicine I learned from books and from practice. I could shoot at the expert level." She knew she had to get hold of this but it had been sloshing around inside her since almost the moment she had awakened here. "Here... what am I? I'm not a soldier. I can't hold my own with a sword. A knife, yes, but in a big fight that's useless. I proved that on the Fields." She knew that he had been protecting her, helping her to stay alive in the mass of violence they had been in. "A doctor? I don't do much doctoring. I lay hands on and it heals. Oh, sure, I can slap a bandage on, just like everyone else, but I don't know the medicines you use. Most of it is magic and I'm totally out of my depth. I don't even know how I do what I do. And – and bringing Boromir back, bringing you back – I can't explain it. I'm not a god. I'm not special. And this – this _gift_ I've been given, it just bugs the hell out of me because it's not something that's even _possible_ according to _everything _I learned from the cradle."

"And yet, you have used this gift with skill, with compassion. You have done what you believed was right, yes?" Haldir didn't move any closer, nor did he make any move to touch her. He knew she needed reassurance; but he wanted to make absolutely certain she realized it wasn't because of their bond. She was a most honorable human. And such power could easily have seduced her, even as the Ring had seduced Boromir on the slopes of Amon Hen. "Amareth – you are something we have never seen, as well. Yet you use this gift that mystifies you to preserve life, even at the expense of your own health. You have sacrificed yourself to save others. Did you not do that in your own world? Did you not treat the wounded with all intent to see them hale and whole?" He had to reassure her. She was surely not so different from what she had been in her world. "You are simply using the means you were given to do so. Magic, learning – in the end, it makes no difference. In the end, you are still yourself. You have a fundamental need to help, to heal what is hurt. And the possibility of what you do? It shakes the foundations of your learning, yes. But obviously, it is possible, or you would not have been able to accomplish it."

"Yes, I treated them with the intent to have them in one piece. I had the highest recovery rate in the unit. I didn't have a lot of time to myself, either; the combat units usually requested me if they were going out with any amount of risk." Amareth shook her head, her dark hair glistening in the light. "It's all so different and I really need time to adapt and I haven't had any." She sighed heavily and stiffened her resolve. "So it's time to just do what comes next and deal later. The other thing that worries me -"

"The bond." Haldir had known this was coming. Amareth was such an independent woman that he understood even without touching it that the bond unsettled her. It might seem to her that she was being given no choice, which was of course not the case. One could always choose to ignore the bond, to not act on it. "It is not absolute, Amareth. One does not have to acknowledge it."

"I've never believed in love at first sight," she began slowly. "That said, you are – well, let's not mince words here. You're attractive, you're kind, you're strong and capable. Those are all the qualities that the romantics preach." She sighed and turned to face him finally, her eyes clear. "The thing is, I'm not a romantic. I wasn't looking for anyone when I got here. To have this – this _feeling_ between us – I don't know if it's love I'm feeling for you, respect, or anything else. I can feel it there but I don't know what it is. I've never felt it before. It's – it's wild, and gentle, and tender, and all sorts of other things I don't have words for, and – and to put it bluntly, I don't know what to do about it."

"Then do nothing." Haldir regarded her steadily. "Allow whatever is to happen to commence on its own. The bond is not absolute, Amareth. It can be a powerful argument, or it can be a mild nuisance. What you feel – it is not the result of the bond. You still have free will. Whether or not you wish to act upon it, the decision is yours. Take the time to examine it at your leisure." He paused a moment, as though searching for the right words. "It may join our spirits, but not our hearts. That is done the same as it always has been: By time spent in the other's company and getting to know each other." Finally he reached over and touched her arm. "Which, as it stands, we might not have time for. We must meet with Aragorn and the others."

Amareth nodded. There was still work to do, and she would throw herself into it if she was able. There would be time when everything was said and done to deal with whatever this feeling was. She enjoyed his company, had enjoyed taking comfort from him, but there wasn't time to explore it now. Firmly she pushed herself back into readiness. "Then let's go and see how we can help."

They went to the Hall of Kings, where they found the others already discussing the situation and making it sound utterly hopeless. Gandalf's voice was flat, passionless, and a touch sad. "Frodo has passed beyond my sight. The darkness is deepening."

Aragorn was trying to remain reasoned and positive. "If Sauron had the Ring, we would know it."

"It's only a matter of time," Gandalf replied in that same flat voice. "He has suffered a defeat, yes, but behind the walls of Mordor, our enemy is regrouping."

Amareth spotted Gimli smoking his pipe and regarding the others quietly, though his words were inflammatory. "Then let him stay there. Let him rot! Why should we care?"

Gandalf shook his head slightly. "Because ten thousand Orcs now stand between Frodo and Mount Doom." He sighed heavily. "I've sent him to his death."

Amareth watched closely, her fingers entwined with Haldir's, as Aragorn spoke again. There was a hopeful note to his voice that she envied. Though quiet, his words nonetheless radiated purpose. "No. There is still hope for Frodo. He needs time and safe passage across the Plains of Gorgoroth. We can give that to him."

Gimli perked up a bit, though he continued to smoke as he listened. "How?"

"Draw out Sauron's armies. Empty his lands. Then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate."

Amareth drew in a surprised gasp, as did Haldir beside her, and Gimli coughed out his smoke in surprise. Éomer stepped forward, his own words grave. "We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms."

Aragorn explained, his words filled with a need Amareth understood, a need to do something, _anything_ to help Frodo fulfill his quest. "Not for ourselves. But we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron's Eye fixed upon us. Keep him blind to all else that moves."

Legolas' head tilted slightly as he perceived the plan. "A diversion."

Gimli of course had a tart rejoinder for them. "Certainty of death. Small chance of success. What are we waiting for?"

**TBC...**


	21. Chapter 21

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.**

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

Chapter Twenty One

Amareth met Haldir and Boromir in the courtyard as they waited for their forces to assemble. Boromir, of course, was acting as Captain-General, as was his right and privilege. She gave him a slight bow and moved to stand next to Haldir, who was holding their horse.

"I thought perhaps you should ride with me, as it isn't one of your strong points," Haldir said quietly. He meant no insult, but she had seemed a bit daunted by the prospect of handling her own mount. "We have need of haste, but can only move at the same speed as the infantry. We must make a strong showing at the Black Gate."

She nodded at him and turned to watch for the signal. Boromir gave her a slight smile and beckoned her closer. She squeezed Haldir's hand reassuringly and moved next to the big man, as he wished. "What is it?" she asked quietly.

He paused a moment before speaking, as though considering his response carefully. "What you have done for me – I don't have the words to properly express my gratitude."

Amareth shook her head. "It's likely to be a short gift," she said evenly. "We can't win this and you know it."

Boromir simply regarded her steadily. "No. It's likely we will fall in battle. But this chance, a chance I should never have had, a chance to follow my King, is the greatest gift that could possibly have been given to me. To have my betrayal forgiven by the Halflings, that was enough. To have my King offer absolution for my crimes – and yes, I consider it a crime to have betrayed all that was good and decent in life for the false promises of Sauron and the Ring – To have Aragorn tell me that all was forgiven, that was a gift beyond price. Should I die now, I will die content."

Amareth simply stared at him for a moment. "No regrets for the things you haven't done?" It amazed her. The men she had known, they would all be depressed about all the things undone in their lives. Not him. He seemed at peace with himself and for a moment she envied him. She had a lot of regrets.

"There are many things I regret," he replied evenly as he met her eyes once more. "But regrets change nothing and distract you from what must be done." His eyes softened slightly. "In the darkness before dawn, regrets can seem very important. But in the light of day, they are best forgotten."

"Well said." Haldir had approached them unnoticed and lightly touched Amareth's shoulder. "It is time."

They looked around and both nodded. Amareth didn't resist Haldir's gentle pull on her and let him lift her onto the horse, then wrapped her arms around him as they began to move to join the others. There were a lot of riders, but even more infantry. And at the head of the column, finally declared and appearing every inch a king, rode Aragorn.

It took many hours, but finally they came to a stop before the Black Gate, forming ranks and waiting. Aragorn finally rode forward, and the others joined him, Gandalf and Pippin, Éomer and Merry, Legolas and Gimli, Boromir, Haldir and Amareth. Aragorn challenged Sauron openly, demanding he present himself for judgment. Then there was silence.

Suddenly the postern gate opened and a mounted creature came through. It approached steadily and Amareth steeled herself against the disgust it stirred in her. It was dark, and nasty, and seemed to have a head made entirely of rotten teeth. There was no sign of its eyes or anything else under the elaborate headdress it wore. Finally it spoke. "My master, Sauron the Great, bids thee welcome." It flashed a wicked smile, showing all its teeth, and Amareth shuddered while Aragorn merely gave it a mocking stare. "Is there any in this rout with authority to treat with me?"

Gandalf spoke, his voice harsh and commanding. "We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless and accursed. Tell your master this: That the armies of Mordor must disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return."

The Mouth of Sauron gave another sickly smile. "Old Greybeard. I have a token I was bidden to show thee." He raised a small garment which caused the hobbits to cry out and Gandalf to call for silence. He grinned again. "The Halfling was dear to thee, I see. Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host. Who would've thought one so small could endure so much pain? And he did, Gandalf. He did."

Aragorn moved his horse closer and the others watched closely as the Mouth of Sauron sneered in his direction. "And who is this? Isildur's heir? It takes more to make a king than a broken Elvish blade."

Aragorn's move was so swift that it was difficult to track, but when it was ended, the Mouth of Sauron was headless and he was moving back to them. "I guess that concludes negotiations," Gimli remarked dryly as the king approached.

Aragorn pulled up directly in front of them, his face set. "I do not believe it," he stated emphatically. "I _will_ _not_."

He might have said more, but the Gate opened. Countless scores of Orcs marched forward toward them and Aragorn called for them to fall back. They returned to the troops, who were beginning to show their hesitation in the face of such insurmountable odds. Aragorn paced his horse before them, clearly trying to raise their spirits and give them hope.

"Stand your ground! Stand your ground. Sons of Gondor, of Rohan, my brothers! I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the very heart of me. A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship. But it is not this day. An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the Age of Men comes crashing down. But it is not this day. This day we fight! By all you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand, Men of the West!"

The horses were loosed. There weren't enough riders to make them an effective weapon. Aragorn stood at the front of the host, watching, waiting. Suddenly he appeared to be listening to something the others couldn't hear... and when he turned to face them, Amareth saw tears in his eyes. In a voice too soft for most to hear, he said simply, "For Frodo," and charged the enemy.

Everyone followed. It no longer mattered that they couldn't possibly win. All that mattered was keeping the enemy occupied so Frodo could reach Mount Doom. Amareth hacked and slashed with her long knife, Haldir stayed close and used his blade to good effect, but there were simply too many of the enemy. It was looking very grim when suddenly the Ringwraiths joined the fight. It looked almost hopeless.

Abruptly the focus shifted. Pippin's voice rang out loud and clear. "The Eagles are coming!" The great Eagles who had been Gandalf's friends for years uncounted were stooping to fight the Nazgul, effectively removing their threat from the hopelessly outnumbered Army of the West. Then the Nazgul, with no warning, wheeled about and headed back into Mordor.

Boromir, Haldir, and Amareth were formed into a loose circle, protecting each other, when Legolas started for Aragorn. He had been attacked by a troll and all of them tried desperately to get to him. The troll had one foot on him and was stepping hard when Aragorn knifed it in the ankle. Boromir shouted out in rage and cleaved his way through the enemy, but he would be too late if he got to his King. There were simply too many Orcs between them. Amareth and Haldir followed, hacking and slashing, as Legolas tried to fight through from the other direction.

An unearthly, wailing cry tore across the plain. The troll lifted its foot and turned back to Mordor as it intensified and all saw the Eye vibrating atop the tower as Mount Doom began to erupt in earnest. The troll pushed its way through the gathered troops and fled as Aragorn pulled himself to his feet. Everywhere, the sounds of battle faded as all took in the tableau beyond the Black Gate.

Then fell the tower of Barad-dur.

All watched as it came down, brick by brick, stone by stone, and Sauron's Eye with it. It pulsed, it raged, and in the end it simply winked out, leaving behind a shock wave that leveled everything and sent a dust cloud across the expanse leading to the Gate.

Cheers went up as the Hobbits began shouting Frodo's name. The Ring had to have been destroyed for such devastation to occur. Fissures ran outward from the base of the Tower toward the gate, becoming chasms, swallowing Orcs as they came, reaching out to devour the Gate and running out around the area the Army of the West occupied. They finally stopped a bit behind and to each side of the Army, leaving them untouched.

They were still cheering. Amareth was clinging to Haldir and Boromir had made his way to the front near Aragorn, his voice as loud as the others. Legolas and Gimli were together as usual and Gandalf regarded the scene with what appeared to be a small smile of satisfaction that quickly gave way to dismay as Mount Doom exploded outward.

Silence fell across the plain as the eruption continued inexorably. Pippin fell to his knees, crying out for his kinsman, tears streaming down his face. The few Orcs that remained continued to flee, unheeded.

Gandalf had called to the chieftain of the Eagles and was making arrangements to search the ruins of Mordor for Frodo and Sam. Aragorn drew himself up. "My friends, my brothers!" he called out. "It is over. Come. Return to Minas Tirith with me."

Boromir knelt next to Pippin and Merry, holding out his arms to them. "I might have failed you before, but never again. Come. Let us go into the City and heal your hurts. Gandalf will find them." He was a soldier, and he knew what condition they were most likely to be in when they were found, but he wouldn't allow his friends to lose hope. And hobbits, he had learned, were the most hopeful of all races. If they could maintain their hope, then the rest would as well. He gathered them up, Pippin at one side, Merry on the other, and began to walk toward the distant city.

Legolas and Gimli fell in behind him, discussing as ever their count of the slain. The Rohirrim rallied to Éomer and began trudging back with him. All of the soldiers were soon moving, some with the help of their fellows, some being carried due to injury.

Amareth knew the dead would be cared for properly, but leaving them seemed callous. She searched among them for one bright spark and found nothing, and finally turned to Haldir. One hand reached up and caressed his cheek, smoothing away some of the dust stirred up by the battle, and then she threw herself into his arms, clinging to him as though he might disappear if she let go.

Haldir held her tightly. He knew how she was feeling; it was something he had never expected to feel. He had been so fearful through this last battle, afraid that they would be separated by death. Gently he kissed her hair, and then simply held her for a few moments before setting her back slightly so he could see her face. Then, without another thought, he pulled her close and kissed her.

Amareth returned the kiss, finally understanding what had been plaguing her since the first touch of his spirit on hers in the courtyard of Helm's Deep. The touch of his lips on hers, the feel of his arms around her, she felt his heart beat in time with hers and all of her unease simply faded away.

Finally they broke apart and began to follow the others. The few Orcs that had escaped the chasms were being cut down as the company came to them; they seemed to have lost their direction and were easy prey. Yet neither of them spoke, as though fearful of shattering the spell that seemed to have overtaken them.

"I need to help," Amareth finally said when they reached the gates. "The men who were injured, I should help them. There are still a lot of wounded in the Houses of Healing, as well. They'll need me."

"I would expect no less," Haldir replied softly as he took her hands in his and kissed them gently. "Go. Help the wounded. That is your calling, as it ever was. There will be time, now. Go."

She kissed his cheek lightly and went into the city, and he followed.


	22. Chapter 22

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.**

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

Chapter Twenty Two

Weeks passed. Aragorn was crowned as was his right and his honor, and Arwen came to join him, becoming his wife as they had desired for many, many years. The Hobbits returned to their home in the Shire, the Rohirrim to Rohan. The wounded healed, and yet Amareth still worked in the Houses of Healing. She worked with the healers to learn their ways, and absorbed the information like a sponge. And yet, there was a stillness about her, a sense that all was not well, and Haldir was more than concerned.

Since she had accepted the bond after the battle at the Black Gate, they had been close. They had been wed quietly and it seemed things would only get better. And then suddenly, everything changed. Amareth hadn't exactly withdrawn from him, but she wasn't herself. She became distant, distracted. She shared nothing with him, and yet kept nothing from him. Even when he held her in the darkness, she seemed to be elsewhere. It was a puzzle, a troubling one. If she had been one of the Eldar, of the Galadhrim, he would have thought she was fading from life, but she was human. And humans did not fade.

He had thought perhaps it was the lack of life in this place, this great city of stone. Even the gardens here were shallow, soil resting atop solid rock. So he had taken her out of the City onto the fields of the Pelennor, hoping to stir some interest in her again, something to shock her out of what seemed to be apathy. It had been futile.

She had seemed to rally for a time, her color had improved, and she had seemed more her old self, happier, less distant. Then something had put her back into the apathy that had shrouded her for several weeks now.

Even their bond was silent. He felt nothing from her, not fear, not sorrow, not joy. Nothing. The love they shared was as silent as everything else. And it was slowly driving him mad with fear. Not for himself – but for her.

He knew now he couldn't help her. He had exhausted every possibility he could think of and none of it had changed the course of her affliction one bit. There had to be someone with the wisdom to know how to heal whatever ailed her, but who? Aragorn was too busy running his new kingdom, and Haldir couldn't fault him for that. It was what duty demanded. Arwen remained with him, easing his way if she could. Elrond had departed for Rivendell soon after the coronation, and Legolas a few days after. There was no one else with the knowledge of both Elven bonds and human behavior for him to turn to.

She had improved, briefly, while on the Pelennor. His mind kept returning to that as he watched her in the gardens, aimlessly wandering from plant to plant, not really seeing, touching a leaf here and a flower there, yet untouched by the beauty that surrounded her. She, who had discovered a connection with all life, seemed to have severed that connection. The question remained whether or not that break was intentional or fostered by some outer force.

His mind kept returning to the Pelennor. She had shown improvement.

Abruptly he rose, intending to join her in the garden, but she caught the movement and met him halfway. She took his hands in hers and pressed a kiss against his cheek, and for a moment he hoped she had come back to him, but the hope was short lived. He drew her in close to hold her and she simply rested against him, pliant, neither accepting the embrace nor seeking to end it.

Inwardly he railed against this condition she was in. He had loved her since the first touch of their spirits; and yet he had allowed her time to come to love in in return, and had not regretted it. They had been one for some time before this disconnection had crept between them.

A decision was reached. He tipped her face to his and kissed her gently, willing her to feel what he held in check for her sake, and knowing as he did so that she wouldn't. "I would like to take you to my home, Amareth, to Lothlorien. Would that suit you?" He knew she would agree. She hadn't opposed him in weeks now, and that simply wasn't his passionate, fiery wife.

She nodded silently. "Good. I will make the preparations. You rest for the journey. It will take some time." And hopefully between Minas Tirith and the Golden Wood, something would awaken her from her stupor.


	23. Chapter 23

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.**

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

**Author's Note: This is coming up on the end of the story. There will be more explanations in the next chapter, I promise! Hard at work on it already, half finished, then the Beta gets it! Hopefully by the weekend!**

Chapter Twenty Three

Their leave taking was a quiet affair. Boromir and Aragorn had come to see them off, as had Arwen.

Boromir had approached first, his expression somber. To Amareth, he gave a small bow. "There are no words to express my gratitude, as I have said before. I give you this vow: That for the rest of my days, I will strive to be worthy of such a gift. I am honored to have such a friend." To Haldir, his words were respectful and quiet. "For my behavior in your home, I beg your pardon. I could explain it away as the Ring beginning to sway me; but it is no excuse. And you have become a true friend to me, despite my shortcomings. Thank you."

Haldir clasped his forearm as an equal and nodded acceptance. "There is nothing to forgive," he said simply. "The Ring was stronger than all of us, save Frodo. And in the end, even he yielded to its temptation." That final, fateful action at Mount Doom had been discussed behind closed doors and if not for Gollum, the Ring could possibly have returned to Sauron's hand. And yet, the Hobbit had endured so much, sacrificed so much, and in the end done what had to be done, Gollum or not. "You bear no shame for your actions."

Amareth touched his hand lightly. "Keep that vow, Boromir, and I will be satisfied," she said simply. Her voice lacked warmth, however; they could have been discussing the weather for all the inflection she gave. "And you will always be welcome in my home. You will forever be my friend."

Boromir looked over her head at Haldir and Haldir gave a short nod. This, this was what he had wanted the others to see, to understand why he needed to take her home. This place had changed her, for whatever reason, and he had to do SOMETHING to help her. Perhaps Galadriel could see some way to restore her to the woman he loved.

Aragorn and Arwen moved forward then as Boromir withdrew. "For what you have given to Middle Earth, what you have done, what you have endured for the good of all... Amareth, you will ever be a friend to us all. There is nothing we could give to properly honor your actions. Know that you and yours are welcome always in our lands and will be forever in our hearts." Aragorn took her hands in his and held them gently. "Be at peace, my friend." He then stepped back and extended his hand to Haldir, drawing him into a loose embrace. "You are my friend and my brother. I pray you find the answers you seek."

Arwen took Amareth's still hands in hers with a small smile. "Go to the trees, my friend. Perhaps they will give you peace." To Haldir, she nodded slightly. I think Lorien will be a good place for her. May you find peace there as well. Haldir nodded slightly in acceptance of the soft Elvish she spoke.

And then they were finished. The farewells had been said, the moment past; and they mounted to leave the city. They would take their time on the journey; Amareth was still not an accomplished horsewoman, so Haldir had found her a mount that would care for her safety as she learned. And as they moved further north, toward Lorien, Haldir nearly despaired of her recovery. She was simply not responding to the life in the earth.

The journey took many days, and Haldir nearly despaired of every reaching her again. Each night, they camped beside the river. Each night, he held her close and felt her heartbeat, but no more than that. The closeness they had found was gone. She seemed to have more color, but her spirit was still ailing. Still, he occasionally felt something from their bond, now, but he couldn't hold it and it would slip away as quietly as it had appeared. It gave him hope, however, that she wasn't completely lost.

Their arrival in the Golden Wood was uneventful, and he took her straight to his home there. Once they were settled, he took her by the hand and led her out again into the trees that made up Lothlorien. "I will introduce you to the Lady Galadriel," he said simply.

No response from the bond. No sign of curiosity, of interest, nothing. Her face remained impassive and her eyes dull. It seemed nothing would reach her. His heart bled at the thought. But as they approached the Lady of the Golden Wood, he thought he saw a flicker in her eyes.

_I know who you are, _a voice spoke in her mind and she wondered at it only for a moment before accepting it without question, as had become her habit. _ And you are welcome here._

"Her spirit suffers," Haldir explained quietly. "She has withdrawn from everything and everyone."

"Yes," Galadriel answered quietly. "And yet all hope is not lost. These trees have healed many spirits. Perhaps hers will be one of them." She held out a hand to Amareth, who looked to Haldir for confirmation before taking it in her own. "I cannot heal you with a touch, I am afraid," Galadriel said simply. "Much of my power wanes. And yet I believe that you will be healed, nonetheless. Go, be among the trees, feel the life of this place. Feel the life of your new home."

Haldir drew Amareth a short distance away and returned to his Lady. "You sensed something," he said simply.

Galadriel regarded him steadily. "It may be that her great purpose has been fulfilled," she said slowly. "And yet, deep inside her, I sense great despair. Perhaps not all evil is gone from this world as yet. I – do not know."

"That is grave indeed," Haldir replied as he looked toward his wife. "But this despair... I do not feel it. I feel nothing from our bond, not her love, not a single emotion. It is as though it never existed."

"Perhaps she seeks to shield you from the weight of her grief." Galadriel motioned toward Amareth. "Yes, grief I feel, and despair. My power wanes, Haldir. I cannot help her. You MUST find some way to reach her. Being among the trees, among the life here, will help."

He nodded and took his leave, collecting Amareth on the way and moving into the clearing. He HAD to reach her. This stillness, this silence, it was so fundamentally unlike her that it frightened him badly. She was no Elf, and yet appeared to be fading from life.

He had known when he bound himself to her that he would outlive her. And yet... the thought of life without her was unbearable. Every moment spent in her company he treasured for that simple fact.

She had better color than when they had left Minas Tirith. He held to that. "Amareth, please," he began softly. "Open the bond. Tell me what's wrong. _Let me help you, please."_

He held no hope of her responding. He had been alternately pleading and demanding for weeks, to no avail. Despite his misgivings, however, there was a frisson of _something_ along the bond. He grasped at it, held it, but it slipped away again. Sighing, he pressed her hand to the ground, hoping desperately that the life in this place could reach her where he could not.

She made no answer and he sighed again. He merely sat with her where she rested on the ground, silent now, waiting. Waiting for something to pierce the shell of her emotions and bring her back to him.

TBC...


	24. Chapter 24

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.**

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

Chapter Twenty Four

Amareth simply existed.

She felt nothing but the guilt of her failures and held it from the bond in an attempt to spare her husband her grief and shame.

She hadn't been able to help the Hobbit or his friends, or even Aragorn where the troll's foot had broken ribs. Her healing gift seemed to be gone. She still felt life, but she had closed herself off from it. She, who was a healer, could no longer heal. She had laid hands upon them, as she had become accustomed to doing, and nothing happened. Nothing. No energy flow, no healing, nothing. It galled her.

What was she to do here now? She was no warrior, not like these people. She couldn't hold her own in a fight, not with just a long-knife. A sword was still beyond her. A bow? Not going to happen. She couldn't ride, either. The beasts scared her and for a Marine who knew no fear, she was terrified when she had to be around one.

A Marine. She was a Marine. What had gotten into her? Do the job. If you don't have the right tools, find them. And Haldir, good lord, he was so worried, she could feel it. But she couldn't change things. She couldn't change her withdrawal. She wanted to, but every time she tried, something plunged her back into the silence.

There had been very little life in Minas Tirith. It was a great City, but it was made of stone, and it was cold, lifeless. Even the gardens didn't offer much to her. Yet she had gone to them every day, hoping to feel _something_ more than the emptiness within her. It hadn't helped.

This place, though, this place was simply teeming with life. She felt the touch of it through her hand on the earth, felt it in the very air. She felt Haldir's spirit touch her own, but as though from a long way away. She couldn't answer that touch.

Galadriel had taken her hand, and for a moment, there had been hope. Hope that she could possibly shake off whatever this was. But the moment had passed and she was again inundated by the shame and despair. Despair over what she would do here.

Enough! She was a doctor. Maybe she couldn't lay hands on, but she'd been healing people for years without that boost. She could do it again. She could still help. She had been learning the herbs and medicines they used. So what if they weren't hers! She could still help.

But when she tried to touch the bond, there was something interfering with it. She couldn't break through. She pushed, and she pushed, and she couldn't change it. Again she felt helpless at her inability to heal, and suddenly she'd had enough.

Her fingers flexed into the dirt, seeking. Seeking that feeling that she had before, that sense of oneness with the earth, the world. Seeking an end to the awful silence she had been thrust into. Seeking to reconnect herself with what she had lost, all of it. Especially her husband.

She missed their closeness, their bond. She missed _him. _She missed everything they had come to share, and she was tired of this silence.

Her fingers dug deeper into the ground and she felt Haldir's arms tighten about her. Hope flooded through their bond, and she caught and held it. Yet she couldn't seem to hold it very long. But the earth, the land, the life here... it was grounding her, allowing her to find her balance. Allowing her to finally fight back.

A tear slid down her cheek and she raised a hand to it in wonder. Haldir's fingers grazed hers as he reached for it as well and she clasped them tightly for a moment. Again she heard his soft voice, gentle, pleading with her to let him help her.

Finally she felt enough better to look up at him. She wasn't completely healed; but what she felt here was helping. Slow going, but damn sure better than nothing.

What she saw in his face touched her in a way nothing had for so long. His love, his concern, they spoke volumes to her and more tears spilled over, silent, but no less heartfelt for it. One hand raised to touch his face while the other remained in the dirt, flexing and feeling, letting the land heal her wounded spirit.

Haldir pulled her tightly to him, rocking her slightly and letting his love for her travel down the bond. He would accept anything from her now; but he wanted to hear what had put her into this state. Her tears had a lost, hopeless quality to them, and yet he felt no despair through the bond.

She rested in his arms for a time, weeping, and then kissed him deeply. Still, not a word passed her lips; she was content to be held like this and comforted. She, who had never been a slave to her emotions, was drained dry by the storm that had passed through her.

Finally, she started to talk. Her voice was hesitant, but the words came forth regardless. "I couldn't help them," she began quietly. "Frodo, I couldn't help him. I couldn't heal. I couldn't even help Aragorn, and all he had were broken ribs. I could wrap them, but nothing else. I couldn't help even _one_ of the men wounded at the Black Gate with my gifts. I was only able to use what I had been taught in my other life." Put that way, it sounded childish and petulant, but she had to make him understand. "Some of those men died because I couldn't help them. Because the only thing that could have saved them was magic, and mine seems to be gone." She rested against him again, one hand on his chest, the other still digging in the dirt. Unvoiced was the thought that with nothing magical left to her, would he still want her? The bond grew strong again with her thought and she felt his love, his acceptance. It was all she needed to finally break free of the guilt she felt.

Haldir felt the change and rejoiced at it. He held her in silence when she finished speaking, but it was a different silence than the chill that had held her for so long now. It was comfortable. He could feel her through the bond again and it strengthened both of them.

Finally he tipped her face up and kissed her. She responded as she had before, with all the passion and fire he had come to associate with his wife, and he knew she was finally free.

Slowly he stood, never releasing her, and they left the clearing in step with each other.

TBC...


	25. Chapter 25

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.**

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

Chapter Twenty Five

Amareth woke suddenly in the night. They had been together for weeks, as they were meant to be. They were once more in tune. But something had wakened her, something strange, and it made her nervous.

She went in search of her husband, her thoughts jumbled. Usually she could bring them under control within a few minutes of waking, but this was... well, it was weird. She couldn't gather her thoughts.

She found him a short way away and settled to the ground next to him, taking his hand in hers. "I woke and you were gone," she said simply. Maybe that was why she was so unsettled.

"Something stirs in the night," he replied softly, his fingers tightening on hers. "Not evil, but strange. It is disturbing."

She let her head rest against his shoulder. "I'll never be in touch with the world the way you are," she said softly, "but I have my own link to it." One hand trailed in the soft earth once more. "I don't feel anything different. What is it, do you think?"

"I don't know." Haldir was searching, trying to find the elusive thing he felt, but it didn't want to be found. He finally sighed and just held her. "Tomorrow, the Lady leaves for the Havens. She will sail for Valinor."

Amareth went very, very still. "I know she's asked you to go along," she said softly.

He kissed her gently. "I could not leave my heart," he said simply. "I will be here with you, forever." The words rang softly into the darkness, seeming to hang there for a moment before moving on.

"I love you." Tender words, spoken with genuine emotion.

They rested that way for a time, until dawn's light touched the horizon. Amareth still didn't know what had awakened her, but a thread of unease had settled into the back of her mind. Then they both rose, going to take their leave of the Lady Galadriel.

After that, things were quiet. The unease remained, and it traveled down the bond, unsettling Haldir as well. Neither of them could understand what it meant. The trees continued to give them solace and companionship, and the life running through them gave Amareth the peace she had so desperately missed in Minas Tirith. Yet even though they were uneasy, they were at peace. They stayed together always, never out of sight of each other.

Then one morning, everything changed. They were walking along the banks of the Celebrant when Amareth stumbled and would have fallen had Haldir not steadied her. But when he reached out to her -

- he couldn't touch her. She was fading from his sight as he reached for her, as though she were a ghost. She was calling out to him, screaming his name, but her voice was fading as quickly as her form. He tried to touch her, to grasp her hand, but his fingers passed right through her. As quickly as that, she was gone.

Birds rose from their roosts as they heard a howl of loss and anguish. They wheeled about, disturbed, as the sound went on and on, and then just as abruptly, stopped.

Then there was silence.

To be Concluded...


	26. Chapter 26

**DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.**

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.**

**THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH. **

**DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.**

**Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!**

Chapter Twenty Six

Amareth woke slowly, feeling a throbbing ache in her leg and her back. Her eyes finally opened despite her desire to escape the pain in sleep and she was confused for a moment. Florescent lights lined the ceiling and at first she didn't recognize them. Then memory flooded back and she cried out, not from physical pain but the knowledge that the bond was broken. She couldn't feel Haldir any longer.

Had the whole thing been a morphine dream? No, she told herself firmly, it had been too real. The pain, the chill, the magic... it had been real. She knew it had been real. But apparently she hadn't been away from her own world very long; she was obviously just beginning to recover from the devastating injuries that had been inflicted on her.

She had been in Middle Earth long enough to heal, she'd been there for MONTHS, and yet here she hadn't come in from the desert very long ago, to judge from the amount of pain she was in. She knew there was morphine in the IV, and she wished she could just keep pushing the little button she found near her hand until she could escape this reality. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to hurt. She didn't want to be without Haldir.

A soft voice to her left caught her attention and she sighed softly. She couldn't turn her head, she was so groggy from the drugs. "Easy, Doc," she was told. "You're okay. Gonna be fine." She recognized the voice as the one who'd put her into the fireman's carry but she couldn't bring the name to mind. "Your doc'll be here soon. He says you're gonna be fine. No lasting damage."

Amareth wanted to laugh and then cry. There was going to be a lot of lasting damage, she thought irreverently. She felt like her heart had been ripped from her chest and that was just from the broken bond. The bullet wound in her back throbbed but it couldn't compare to the emotional devastation she was enduring.

The surgeon came to see her and explained what he had done, and she barely listened. She had physical therapy and barely cared. She was sent back to the States and placed into the VA hospital and said nothing. She felt dead inside.

Sometimes, at night, she would feel a tiny touch inside her and it made her weep bitter tears. Haldir was gone. There was no bond.

Weeks passed, then months. The VA shrinks insisted that she was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress and tried to get her to open up. She wasn't having it. If it had been a dream, then it was HER dream and she wasn't going to share it.

Finally they gave up and she was discharged. She found a small apartment halfway across the country with her accumulated pay and proceeded to try to find a job. She was a doctor in her own right, so she wouldn't settle for less than full partner in a practice or a hospital posting. She finally found an ER position and took it gratefully. Maybe it would keep her busy enough to stop the dreams she was still having, dreams of Middle Earth – and Haldir.

She gained a reputation within the hospital as a damn good doctor, but only an okay human being. She was aloof, and some called her cold. She seemed to have no emotions save the drive to heal. It was as though she were simply existing, marking time until something could bring her out of her isolation.

She was at home relaxing on one of her rare off nights (she tended to work even when she had scheduled downtime) when she was paged for an emergency. She went directly to the ER and was told there had been an accident and the patient in Trauma Three was asking for her.

She was intrigued in spite of herself. She had no practice of her own, no patients who would know her by name. Sighing, she went to the treatment room and pushed open the door.

He sat with his back to the door but she had a moment's fright anyway. The color of his hair, so pale and yet rich, reminded her of Haldir. His build, slight but strong, was the same. Resolutely she pushed the reminders away. She had a job to do. This man had been in a car accident and he needed treatment. Maybe he had just heard of her from others who'd been seen in the ER.

"Well, Mr. Holden, let's see your face," she said quietly as she washed up. She turned from the sink to see him -

- and had to catch her breath. Surely it wasn't! It couldn't be! But her shock rooted her to the spot and she couldn't think. But the bond, that had so long lain dormant, was sounding off, showing her that what she thought was impossible wasn't.

She gathered her wayward thoughts, feeling love and acceptance where before there had been nothing. It steadied her, helped her to focus. She raised one shaking hand toward him. "How?" Her voice was a bare whisper of sound.

He rose and drew her close. "I swore I would be with you always, and to that I hold," he murmured against her hair as he held her and comforted her shivers. "Every day without you was empty, lifeless. And every day, I told myself I would find you again."

"I thought... they tried to convince me it was a dream. I never told anyone... but they still said I was hallucinating, that I had PTSD because of what happened in country. I almost... I was almost ready to believe them." Amareth clung to him like a lifeline.

He simply held her until her innate sense of responsibility kicked in. "What am I doing? You were hurt. Let's see it so I can fix it." She stepped back slightly and searched his face, quickly finding the cut on his cheek and touching it lightly. "Not too bad. It won't scar, anyway." She got some antiseptic and cleaned it up. "There. Does it hurt? I can get you something for it if it does."

"All I need is you," he murmured as he drew her in close again. "I've healed from worse." A totally mischievous smile touched his lips as he dropped his glamour for her so she could she could see him as she remembered him. "Something I had to learn, I'm afraid. But let's get out of here. I want to take you home. I've been so long without you that now I've found you again, I never want you out of my sight." Another smile. "I know we'll have to be apart physically. But through the bond... never again." It strengthened as he spoke, letting her feel all of what he had endured to be near her again.

She stepped back slightly and took his hands in hers. "I'd like nothing better," she murmured. And together they walked into a night bright with promise.

_This has been such a joy to write. I am so glad y'all stuck with me even when it took me MONTHS to update (which is putting it mildly). Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the support and appreciation you have shown this work. I hope you have enjoyed the ending as much as the beginning. Namárië!_


End file.
